What The Cat Dragged In
by psyche b. mused
Summary: Helping 'damsels in distress' just wasn't his thing...he was more accustomed to distressing them in the first place. Unfortunately, Kelly doesn't know that... Victor Creed/OC
1. Cold Comfort

I don't own Victor Creed or anything from the X-Men universe...and i don't make any money writing this. Kelly is mine though. :)

**Okay, so here goes a bit of wish fulfillment! It'll be delightfully dark in places, hopefully funny in others and will – I promise – contain a plot. Based on the Liev Schreiber characterization. As always, I love to know what people think...**

**Enjoy!**

**psyche b**

1. Cold Comfort

Kelly had been bound with her hands behind her back in the tiny, frigid lean-to for two days. At least, she thought she had. She had been able to see daylight grow and recede into darkness twice through the loose boards. The fact that she had been unconscious when she was put into the small space made her question her judgment. No matter the time frame, it had been had been enough for her body to move through all the varied territories of ache and enter into a state of painful numbness. The hunger she had been feeling so sharply at one point had faded to just another dull ache in the collection.

She'd worked at the ropes in every way she knew how, but her numb hands were ineffectual. From time to time, she forced herself to get up so that her body wouldn't go completely numb. The tiny space and the fact that her ankles were connected by another length of rough rope meant she couldn't go far, but it kept the blood flowing. Maybe it even kept frostbite from setting in.

Snow insinuated itself in through the spaces between the boards, insuring that she was always wet as well cold. The tiny drifts probably kept her from getting completely dehydrated though. Hellish as the tiny, cold place was though, she didn't for one minute regret trying to run. If she got the chance, she would try it again.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The cabin was his sanctuary. A place to go where he could hide away from the rest of the world. Looking at him, he doubted anyone would think that someone reputed to be more beast than man would have any desire for such a place. That was an image that he'd taken care to cultivate. Letting them think he was simply beastly brawn and nothing else gave him an advantage.

Victor Creed liked to have the advantage almost as much as he enjoyed his work and the perks that went along with it. Since he went private a few years back, he'd noticed that those perks had increased significantly. He'd also been able to capture a few of the scattered threads of his humanity, some by accident, some on purpose. Not all of it. Hell, he didn't want all of it. He'd decided that having a little patch of it here and there might not be such a bad thing though.

He looked out the large window at the heavy snow that bent the tree limbs. It was only mid-October, early for that much snow. It would make tracking even easier though. He headed out into the ankle-deep snow, intent on bringing back something fresh for dinner.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly was certain that she couldn't take any more. Two days ago, he'd come and gotten her out of the shed. With a wicked little smile on his face, he'd beaten her, just – he said - to remind her who was boss. It had become their morning ritual. Every time he tried to rape her but couldn't get hard, he beat her again, as if the failings of his aging body were her fault. She began to wonder if the rape would have been more tolerable than the beatings she got instead.

By the morning of the third day, she was bleeding from several different places on her head. The bruises that were developing on her body started to blend together, changing the tone of large swaths of her skin from ivory and alabaster to deep purple. When she lay on the floor, trembling with fear and pain and anger, he disappeared. For a minute, she thought he had gotten tired and quit for the moment. Kelly was certain that it was only his lack of stamina that had saved her from internal injuries thus far.

"Your Daddy said you could cook." He dropped two bloody rabbits in front of her. A shotgun pointed at her head. "Get to it."

Kelly's stomach turned. Had there been anything in it, she would have vomited. He hauled her up to her feet.

"I-I don't know how to-"

He didn't give her a chance to finish. His fist slammed into her face again. She was certain that one of these times the bones would break from the sheer repetitive abuse.

"Well you better fuckin' learn." He seemed almost gleeful as he watched her struggle to clean the rabbits at gunpoint. Each time she did something wrong, a hard fist emphasized the point somewhere on her body.

Once the rabbits were reduced to meat, Kelly was on somewhat familiar territory. Of course he wouldn't compliment her, but she knew she had done something right because he finished nearly all of the meat and then promptly fell asleep with the shotgun next to him. She looked at the rope that still connected her feet. The knife she'd used had already been secured. All she was wearing was a filthy pink tank top and panties. She knew she wasn't likely to get far. He'd told her that if she tried to escape again he would break one of her ankles. Still, it was a chance. She took the last mouthful of meat and slipped out the door as quietly as she could. As soon as her bare feet hit the snow, she ran as fast as her connected legs would allow.

It was only minutes until she heard him behind her. What he was saying was lost in the sound of the cold wind rushing past her ears. Maybe he was threatening to kill her. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Maybe she was dying already, and the giant of a man standing in the trees in front of her was just a hallucination.

"Help me!" The desperate plea was the last thing she managed to get out before she tripped. She fell hard and hit her head against a rock. The world started to fade into a deep gray haze. Just before it was completely gone, Kelly hoped the world stayed gone.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed didn't know what the fuck was going on but he was damn sure going to find out. He'd been at the cabin for two days, and in those two days he'd come across a strange male scent in his woods twice. The first time he'd been tracking a deer and decided that dinner was more important. This time, he'd come dressed for a day in the cold, ready to see who was jackass stupid enough to trespass on his land. The screaming frail was a surprise, she was saturated in enough terror that it almost covered the scent of the old bastard chasing her. He recognized the guy's scent as what he'd been smelling.

He barely had a chance to process the fact that, whoever the girl was, she had asked him for help before she fell and cracked her head.

"Get the fuck off my land!" The old guy raised a gun. Creed didn't flinch.

He growled. "You wanna try that again?" He watched the old man tremble a little. Someone had treated the trespasser a hell of a black eye and split his lip already.

"You heard me!" He was trying to maintain his anger, but was nowhere near as confident as he had only seconds before.

Creed started to advance, stepping over the unconscious female as he went.

"I'll shoot!" The old man warned.

"Go ahead." Creed smiled, showing his pointed fangs. They had precisely the effect he was hoping for. The old man's eyes widened. He could smell the thick fear coming off of him in waves.

"Wh-what the fuck are you?"

"The last thing you'll ever see."

The old man fired, but the shot only clipped his arm. Creed tore out the man's throat with one clawed hand, then he watched the man sink to his knees and slump over as his left drained away. He tossed the lump of flesh next to the body and used the snow to clean most of the blood off of his hand. It was only when he was ready to head back that he thought of the girl. She was still unconscious. From what he could see, the old guy or someone else had beaten the hell out of her. She'd die pretty quick if he left her out there, and that's just what he was tempted to do.

He moved closer, assessing if she was going to die anyway. Her scent told him that she had shared the old guy's space, but he hadn't fucked her. From what his nose told him, no one had. He grinned. This had the potential to be fun, for him anyway. The cold had stopped most of the bleeding from her head wound. He picked her up and draped her over his shoulder. She groaned but didn't stir.

He covered ground quickly on the way back. Once inside, he grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa and tossed it on the floor in front of the fire, then he laid her on it. The blood he could smell now was old, but he didn't want to have to clean it up if she started bleeding again. The unbruised skin he could see was bluish from the cold. He deftly sliced through the ropes tied to her ankles. The skin underneath the ropes was rubbed raw. He saw similar marks around her wrists. She whimpered and turned toward the heat of the fire, but she still didn't fully wake up.

He stood and looked down at her with cold curiosity. One eye was bruised and probably swollen shut, the other had a deep dark circle etched under it. She was small-boned, but way too thin. She was tiny too, looked like she hadn't even made it halfway through her teens yet. Fuck, that was all he needed, some teenage frail hiding out in _his_ sanctuary. For all he knew, he had just killed her father. He figured her could put her back out in the snow and let nature take care of it, he could kill her outright, or he could play with her for awhile and then kill her. She might not even wake up, though she didn't smell far enough gone for that. He flipped the free edge of the blanket over her and tossed another log on the fire.

It was getting late and he'd been out all morning chasing after the old guy. He took out some of the venison he'd had for dinner the night before and ate it cold.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly woke up when she smelled cooking meat. She was warm, and whatever she was laying on didn't have the same sour stink she'd become accustomed to over the last few days. She could hear someone moving around, someone heavy from the sound of the footsteps. Where the hell was she now? Dead would have been easier. At least then she wouldn't have to worry anymore.

"You hungry, frail?" The voice was deep, and rough around the edges. It sent a shiver down Kelly's spine. She did her best to stay still, to pretend that she was still sleeping. "I know you're awake. Your breathing changed."

He'd been watching her breathe? Kelly knew she couldn't just pretend to be asleep and hope he would fall for it. She pushed herself up, slowly. Everything seemed to hurt ten times more than it had before. She tried her best not to whimper as she sat up, and she wasn't entirely successful. Scanning the room quickly, she saw the large man from the woods resting again the breakfast counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. His arms were crossed over his broad chest.

"Who-" Her voice cracked. "Who are you?"

"Since you're layin' in my house it seems like I should be the one askin' the questions." He walked toward her slowly, stalking almost like an animal would. Kelly moved backward until her back came to rest against a leather chair. He stood, looking down at her, his arms still crossed. "I asked if you were hungry."

Simply not answering was clearly not an option. She had no way of knowing if it was a trick or not either. Kelly couldn't trust her voice, so she simply nodded.

"Come on then." He didn't move. Kelly was certain she had made a mistake by saying yes. Still, it wasn't like she had many options. She kept her eyes on him, held the blanket around herself and used the chair to get up. Her body protested every movement. She could see that it was dark outside too. She wondered how long she'd been laying there. Once she was standing he turned his back and walked out into the kitchen, expecting her to follow.

The first thing Kelly noticed was that she was no longer hobbled by the rope. With each step, some of the kinks started to work themselves out of her muscles. She also noticed that wherever she was, it was a hell of a lot nicer than the shack she'd been in before.

"Sit." He went over to the stove.

Kelly moved toward the chair facing the window.

"Not there," he said. Kelly froze, then took the other chair. As soon as she sat down he set a plate of roasted meat and a bottle of beer in front of her and sat down with his own plate. Kelly just stared at the meat, and he stared at her.

"The fuck you waitin' for? An engraved invitation?"

"Sorry." She said softly. She couldn't force herself to look up at him. Kelly tried to tell herself to eat slowly, but days with next to nothing to eat took their toll on her manners.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The smell of the fear rolling off of her was almost enough to cancel out the smell of the venison. Not the most pleasant thing at dinner, but the fact she was afraid proved she wasn't a fucking idiot. She was damn near shaking with the effort of trying to eat slowly. After the first bite her eyes glazed over and she dropped the pretense of politeness. He'd seen that look before, usually the person wearing it had suffered long-term malnutrition. Looking at her in better light, he could see that was probably true of her too. Whatever she'd been through, it took a hell of a long time to bring her to this state.

The bruises were all relatively fresh. The left side of her face was distorted by them. Most of the skin he'd seen was covered in bruises or scrapes. Her hair was matted with blood in places. He'd seen worse. He'd done worse. The bruises and scrapes he could see on her knuckles told him she'd fought back, at least for awhile.

He let her finish eating before he said anything else.

"Gonna tell me your name, or do I have to guess?"

"Kelly." She said softly. Her eyes were wide, and the color of blue-green sea glass. She looked even younger than she had when she had been laying on the floor.

He sneered. "No last name?"

She hesitated, hiding something. "No."

He'd let her keep her secrets, for now. "How long you been living on my land?"

"What day is it?" She asked.

"Answer me first."

She started to tremble a little. "I can't unless I know what day it is."

"Thursday, October seventeenth."

She closed her eyes, thinking. "Eight days." She sounded surprised by her answer.

"You related to the old guy chasing after you?"

"No!" she answered quickly, a fresh wave of terror rolled off of her. She looked up at him, her eyes imploring. "Please don't make me go back there!" That was a tone he was familiar with. Usually it was directed at someone else, begging to be protected from him. To hear it in this context was unique.

"Can't. He's dead." He could smell the relief that washed through her, but the questions were written all over her face.

"How did-"

"So where are your parents?" He made sure his tone left no room for her to do anything but answer the question he'd just posed.

"Why?" More fear, this time mixed with suspicion and uncertainty.

"Cause you don't look old enough to be out past dark, that's why."

"So you give me beer?" She looked surprised she'd said it out loud.

He gave a short laugh. "It was that or Jack Daniels. Figured you could start with the beer and work your way up."

Her lips twitched in an attempt to smile. The wince told him the expression pained the large split on her lip. "It's the seventeenth of October?"

"Yeah."

"I turned eighteen two days ago." She blinked the tears back, but he caught a whiff of them anyway. "So I guess my parents aren't really an issue anymore."

That was an interesting development. Not as young as he'd thought, that added to his theory of prolonged malnutrition. He picked up his beer and she gasped. He was about to make a smartass remark about a guy having a drink in his own house when he realized she was staring at his claws. They were retracted at the moment, but they were still wicked-looking instuments. He grinned, letting her see the fangs too. "Didn't notice before, huh?"

She just shook her head, her eyes still wide.

He took a long drink of the beer and set it down again. "There's a bathroom down the hall, second on the right. Get yourself cleaned up."

"What's you're name?" she asked.

"Victor Creed."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Before she went into the bathroom he tossed one his shirts at her. Kelly wasted no time getting into the shower. It was the first time she'd been allowed to bathe in more than a week, and whoever this Victor Creed was he had at least fed her and let her shower. That didn't mean she was safe. He might have intentions every bit as bad as Roland Dawes'd had. If he decided to beat her, she'd never survive. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. At least she wouldn't die by inches, she was certain she didn't have the courage for that.

Kelly looked down at the bloody water that swirled around her feet in the enormous tub. It made her a little sick to know that the blood she was seeing was her own. She didn't want to risk losing the first actual meal she'd had in a week. She looked at the white tiled wall, letting her fingers work shampoo through her matted hair. It felt like it took ages before all the dried clots of were gone. Once they were, she ventured a glance down between her feet again. The water was soapy but otherwise clear, and Kelly breathed a sigh of relief. She finished the rest of her shower quickly, then cleaned the tub before pulling his shirt on. It was sleeveless and came to just above her knees.

When she glanced at herself in the mirror, she hardly recognized the person she saw looking back at her. The bruising and swelling had distorted her face. The cuts and scrapes were bright red at the edges, probably because of the hot water, but it still made everything look worse. She'd never thought of herself as beautiful, but she was accustomed to herself. If she hadn't been so tired, she would have cried.

Because she didn't know what else to do, she walked back out into the living room with the blanket wrapped around herself. Her knees trembled a little when she saw him sitting in the leather chair by the fire.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For-"

He didn't look at her. "C'mere."

Kelly had to force herself to move. She stopped just outside his reach.

"Sit." He pointed at the spot between his feet. "Put your back to me."

Her eyes widened with fear. He read the expression and the worry behind it.

"D'you think I'd've gone through the trouble of bringin' you back here and feedin' ya if I was gonna kill ya right after?" He glared at her.

Kelly shifted from one foot to the other. What he said made sense, maybe too much sense, but she wasn't awake enough to work it all out now. "I guess not."

He snorted. "Sit."

Kelly sat carefully on the floor at his feet, hugging her knees. She jumped when he started moving her hair carefully. "What-?"

"I'm trying to see how bad your head wounds are. Be fuckin' embarrassing if you died of natural causes, now hold still." There was a growl in his voice. She didn't want to think about what he meant.

"Sorry." Kelly trembled a little when he moved the damp strands of her hair, but she stayed still. In the beginning she braced herself, expecting that the careful touches would shift at any moment to a deadly attack. By the time his fingers had moved on to the second wound Kelly started to relax. It was the first time anyone had touched her gently in days.

"Who was he?" he asked.

Kelly couldn't bring herself to say that the intention was for her captor to be her husband. "Roland Dawes."

"Well that's real informative. What the fuck were you doing with him?" In spite of the harsh words, his fingers were still surprisingly careful.

"It was my stepfather's idea." That night seemed like it was a hundred years ago now. Her mother hadn't even known what was going to happen, probably because she would have done her best to fight it. She wouldn't have won, but Kelly might have had time to run. "Roland is ...was a friend of his, and he wanted me out of the house."

His fingers paused. "Tilt your head back some."

She did until he stopped her with one hand.

"Dawes do all this?" he asked.

"All the bruises, yes. The first cut you looked at, happened when I fought going with Roland. This one," she touched the one that was just in her hairline. "I guess I did to myself when I was running away."

"You the one that hit him?"

Kelly wasn't sure if she should admit it or not. She rubbed her bruised knuckles.

"Well?" His voice had gone cold and the tip of one claw applied just a bit of pressure on her scalp. The meaning was clear. Kelly swallowed hard.

"Yes."

The pressure eased and he returned to careful exploration. "Who taught you to fight?"

Kelly shrugged a little. "Nobody. Probably why I was about to be dragged back for a second time."

He made a non-committal little sound that Kelly wasn't even about to try to interpret.

"All superficial." He sat back. "You can sleep on the couch, until I figure out what the hell I'm going to do with you."

"Thanks." Kelly ventured a glance over her shoulder and attempted a little smile again.

He glared.

She got up and lay on the couch, covered up with the blanket. Even as tired as she was, she was certain she would never sleep. At least he had his back to her. The room was warm, and the large couch was the most comfortable place she'd laid down since leaving home. She knew she should be figuring out a way to get out of there, too. Her 'host' hadn't hurt her in any way, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to. He certainly gave every indication that he was capable of it. The adrenaline high she'd been on for the last week was gone, though. In spite of her best intentions, Kelly closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.

*~*~*~*~*~*

_This 'humanity' shit is for the fuckin' birds_, Creed thought. Some asshole made a comment about him being nothing but an animal that had pissed him off and now he was playing nursemaid to beat up frail who clearly looked at him like some kind of fucking savior. The whole 'save the damsel in distress' thing was Jimmy's deal. He was the one who distressed them to start with. It was a dynamic that held a comfortable familiarity for him.

He glanced over at the girl. From the sound of her breathing, she was asleep already. She was curled up with all but the bruised side of her face covered by the blanket. She was so damn small if it weren't for that and the sweet, ripe smell of her he might have missed her completely.

That scent teased him like it was another living entity. It was enriched by the muted, bloody scent of her injuries, but it was damn near enough to make him let go of the urges he was still unaccustomed to holding in check. Almost. He didn't mind when his toys got broken, as long as he was the one who got to break them. Between the injuries and the fact that she was skin and bones she would break too easily. He'd try to give her a few days, put a little meat on her bones, let some of the bruises heal. Give her a nice little false sense of security. The look of surprise would be priceless.

She whimpered softly, flailed and her right arm ended up outside the blanket. A tang of anxiety crept into her scent, but it dissipated fairly quickly. His eyes were drawn to the bruises on her knuckles. The beginnings of a smirk touched his lips. Underfed or not, she was a scrappy little thing. This little arrangement might prove to be a great deal of fun. When it wasn't, there was a big woods outside the door.


	2. Books

**Author's Note: First, I have to say WOW, THANK YOU!! To everyone who commented and added the story to their alerts. When I was playing around with the idea I wasn't going to post it at all, but then I figured, what's the worst that could happen? I never ever expected such an overwhelming positive response and I hope you all continue to enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it, and you keep letting me know what you think. :)**

**As always...i don't own Victor Creed, or the Church of Humanity, or anything else from the X-Men universe and I make no money from writing this.**

**Enjoy!  
**

**psyche b  
**

2. Books

Kelly woke up slowly. The first thing that filtered through the fog of sleep was that there was no one hitting her, or yelling at her. The next thing that broke through was, she was warm and comfortable. For a few minutes, she was certain that she was still dreaming. The scent was wrong though. In comfortable dreams like this, she was always able to smell the lilacs from the tall bushes that grew outside her window. In those dreams, her father was still alive and her mother had never become a haunted shell of herself.

In this dream, she didn't smell lilacs. Kelly curled up on her side and tried to place what she was smelling. The only thing that came to mind was that the scent was something musky and masculine. It was comforting in a way, unlike the unwashed stink of Roland Dawes. Whatever this comfortable dream was, she knew she was going to have to open her eyes and get back to reality eventually. It was better to do it before something intruded on it anyway. Kelly willed herself to remember this feeling, then she opened her eyes, fully expecting to see the inside of the filthy shack. When she didn't, she had no idea where she was.

Kelly sat up, her heart was pounding as she looked around the room. There was a large fireplace made of tumbled river rock. A leather chair in front of it that looked somehow larger than most ordinary chairs. The couch she was laying on was higher and deeper too. When she glanced over at the breakfast counter, she remembered her futile flight and the large, gruff man who brought her in from the cold and saved her life.

She still wasn't entirely sure _why_ he'd saved her life. He hadn't hurt her, but he had gone out of his way to make her think that he was going to.

Kelly looked around the room. Two of the walls were lined with books from about three feet off the floor to nearly the ceiling. There was no television in this room, but there was a Bose sound system that worked with an mp3 player. Kelly wondered what kind of music he listened to. She told herself that she wasn't going to find out. Clearly he didn't want her there. Even if she had wanted to stay, it wouldn't be safe for him. The best thing for her to do was get what little clothing she had from Roland's shack and take her chances.

That didn't mean she couldn't show a little gratitude. Whatever his motivations, he had brought her in from the snow. She needed time to figure out how she was going to get back to the shack in her bare feet anyway. While she folded the blanket she said a little prayer that Cody was safe and warm that morning too. She left the neatly folded blanket at one end of the couch, using the reawakening aches to focus her.

Next she looked into fridge. She found two dozen eggs and several pounds of bacon as well the venison from the night before. She found a bowl and a whisk and started scrambling four of the eggs. She had no idea if he would eat that much, and she cursed herself for not paying closer attention to what he ate for dinner the night before. Still, if it was too much, he might let her have what was left.

*~*~*~*~*~*

He'd woken up when he heard her moving around. At first, he just listened, curious what she would do. He'd never brought a frail into the cabin, much less let one wander around loose. Usually by the time he was done with them they weren't capable of much wandering anyway. He heard her wake up and shift on the sofa, then he didn't hear anything. What the fuck was she doing? Just sitting there? That didn't make a damn bit of sense. She should be up and searching around for something to attack him with. This one wasn't exactly predictable though.

He walked closer to the bedroom door, wondering if he was missing something. All that greeted him was silence at first. Then she moved and stifled a groan. A minute later he heard the refrigerator open, then several cupboards. The bitch was making herself right at home.

Wearing only his sweat pants, he opened the door silently and moved into the living room. The blanket was neatly folded and laying at the end of the sofa. She was standing with her back to him, scrambling eggs. He approached her swiftly and silently. Just before he reached her, a wave of fear rolled off of her and she tried to turn. He didn't give her a chance. He planted one hand on either side of her on the counter, trapping her between his body and the cabinet.

He growled softly. "Scare ya, frail?" Creed grinned at the little tremble he felt go through her. If she only knew how good she smelled she'd be fucking _terrified_.

"I-"

He pressed his hips forward holding her pinned, letting her feel that his cock was already halfway hard. She bit down on her lip and drew fresh blood. It was almost too much to take, his claws bit into the countertop.

"I thought you might like some breakfast." She was working hard to keep the tremor out of her voice. He was surprised that she mostly succeeded.

He leaned over further, emphasizing the fact that the top of her head came up to the middle of his chest. "How many eggs is that?"

"Four." She was taking deep, slow breaths and gripping the edge of the counter so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Add two more." He wanted to feel her move against him.

She hesitated. "N-now?"

"No, when pigs fuckin' sprout wings."

The carton was just far enough away that she needed to reach to get it. When she did, he could see that the small movement caused some kind of pain. She covered the wince well enough, but he saw it anyway. He waited until she cracked two more eggs into the bowl. He moved back and leaned against the other counter, giving her some space to work. "Add some hot sauce too."

She looked into the fridge and got out the small bottle. "And get me a beer while you're in there." He noticed that she was protecting her right side, and that the cool air from the fridge hardened her nipples. She handed him the beer, and he watched her shake a little of the hot sauce into the bowl. "More." He said. He opened the beer and took a long drink.

She added a little more, and looked at him.

"Keep goin'."

She obliged, adding sauce slowly until he told her to stop.

"How much bacon do you want?" She asked. She was covering the tremor in her voice better, but she was still deliciously scared.

He held out his hand. "Gimme the package."

Again, a reach into the fridge. Again, he watched her nipples tease the fabric of his shirt. She blushed and hunched her shoulders when she put the package in his hand. He cut through the plastic, pulled out all but three slices, and dropped them in the warming pan.

"Do you like it crisp or-"

"Just keep it moving. I'll tell you when." He watched her separate the slices.

She was starting to calm down. The anxiety was fading from her scent and her posture was starting to relax too. It made the way she favored her right side more obvious.

"Think they're broken?"

"What?" She was surprised by the question.

"Your ribs."

She shook her head a little. "No."

"You sound pretty fuckin' sure of that."

A little half shrug. "Unless broken ribs on the right side feel significantly different than broken ribs on the left side, I am sure."

"That's done."

"It's half raw!"

"It's how I like it. Somethin' wrong with that?" Who the fuck did she think she was? He could have fuckin' left her in the snow to die. He could've torn her throat out while he used her like a two dollar whore, and he damn sure would have enjoyed every second of that. Instead he was standing in his own kitchen arguing about how he liked his breakfast to be cooked. He growled, half at her, half at himself.

"No." She answered quickly. She took the pan off the heat and searched for a plate. Pissed off as he was, he found himself watching the lines of her body as she moved. "I've just never seen anyone eat it that way before." He was standing in front of the cabinet with the plates. He shifted only slightly, making her lean against him to get what she needed. A crimson blush colored her cheeks, when he looked down at her and grinned hungrily. He smelled the spike in her anxiety again. He moved back just far enough for her to reach a plate without undue pain to her ribs. He watched curiously as she lined it with a paper towel and put the bacon on it. She handed it to him.

"Do you like your eggs any special way?"

"Nope." He was already half finished with the bacon, and he was pretty sure that she was keeping her back to him so she wouldn't have to see him eat it. He watched the way she moved, and the way the wide neck of his shirt slipped from first one shoulder and then the other.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly usually hoped for leftovers, but she found herself hoping that he ate all of that bacon himself. Hungry as she was, there was no way she would ever be able to stomach it. From the sound of it, he was enjoying it though. A little smile touched her lips in spite of the way his intense gaze made her nervous. She was grateful that eggs were done quickly. She got the plate back again and was relieved to find it was empty. She tossed the paper towel in the trash and handed him the plate full of eggs. It was something she'd done a thousand times, but it seemed nearly impossible to do with him watching her like that.

"Not bad."

She turned quickly, her eyes wide with surprise.

"What?" He took another bite.

"Nothing." Kelly was still at a loss for words. "I just.....I'm glad you think so." She put her back to him again and started to clean up.

"You're gonna eat."

Kelly was starting to get used to his gruff announcements. If he had looked more the huggable type she would have hugged him for that one. She turned to look at him again.

"An egg?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're gonna finish the bacon and have two eggs. There's nothing to ya."

Kelly's excitement faded quickly. "I shouldn't. If I get used to eating that much-"

He took a step toward her. "You gotta fuckin' argue about everything?"

She stepped back until the counter stopped her. "No." She put the remaining bacon in the pan and hoped he wouldn't change his mind.

He held his now empty plate out to her. "You bring any clothes with you to Dawes's place?"

"My mother packed a few things for me in a pink backpack." Kelly said.

He grunted. "F'I see it, and if I think of it, I'll bring it back with me." He disappeared for a few minutes and then emerged wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. She hoped he knew where he was going.

"I don't know where Dawes's shack is." Kelly said.

"No! Really?." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he laced up his boots. He got up and advanced on her quickly, backing Kelly into the corner formed by the counter and sink. For a minute, he just stood there, looking down at her. She was sure that he could hear her heart pounding. He traced her unbruised cheek with one claw and leaned in close. "You go snooping around while I'm gone, I'll give you some scars to go along with those bruises. Understand, frail?" His voice was a soft purr that sent a chill down her spine

Kelly nodded a little.

The pressure on her cheek increased. "Lemme hear you say it."

"I understand." Kelly whispered.

He took his hand away and backed off.

"Can I-"

"Can you _what _?" His eyes narrowed.

Kelly had to take a deep breath before she could ask. "Can I read one of your books?"

His expression didn't change, but Kelly saw surprise flicker through his eyes. "Whatever." He walked out without another word.

Kelly managed to keep the bacon from burning while she collected herself.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed found the old man's body easily enough, so had some of the other predators he shared his woods with. From the scent and the tracks, it was the pack of wolves that had moved in recently. He walked past the chewed corpse and followed the frail's scent back to a shit hole of a shack. When he bought the land, he'd been told there was an old hunting camp on it. His intention was always to build, so he'd never bothered with it. This structure had sure as hell been around more than a few weeks or months.

The door was still standing wide open from the when old bastard went chasing after the frail. The sour stink of rot and mildew was laced with the frail's fear and anger, as well as the scent of old blood drifted out to him. He knew most of it had to be hers and that pissed him off. He was going to make her bleed. No one else had the right to.

When he got inside, the stench intensified. He found her backpack immediately. It was the only thing in the whole goddamn room that didn't look like it was about to fall apart. It was spattered with blood to. Unless the frail was more of a drinker than she let on, most of the crimson stains came from Dawes.

He smiled a little. "Scrappy frail."

Creed searched the single room quickly, looking for anything that might tell him more about Dawes. He found a few receipts and small book of meditations and essays. He recognized it as something those assholes from the Church of Humanity gave to members. In the back were scribbled facts about the neighboring towns.

His anger was rising. If Dawes was a member, the frail was too. Something else about her that didn't make any fucking sense. Assholes from the CoH were so saturated in contempt that he could smell it a mile away. The frail had been scared, but fear and hate where two different things. He sliced through the cheap nylon of the backpack, and dumped the contents on the rickety table. At first, all he saw was a pile of worn and faded clothes and a pair of cheap canvas sneakers. He sifted through them quickly and book similar to the one Dawes had fell onto the floor, its cracked spine fell open.

Creed was almost too blind with rage to see that the hateful words had been covered over with drawings. It was enough to defuse the rage, at least for the moment. He picked up the small book and flipped slowly through the pages. Castles and dragons covered one page. Flowers and butterflies obscure the text on another. On another page, she'd deleted certain words and added others, creating a kind of poem that the original author had sure has hell never intended.

It was all useless shit, but it was better than the hateful shit that had been there before. And it was too fucking perfect. Even if he couldn't see how she or Dawes had set it up, they were going to have a conversation and if she didn't have some damn good answers she was going to end up as carrion too. His anger was back as soon as he lifted his eyes again. He shoved her stuff back into the ruined bag and set it on a stump outside before he tore the place down with his bare hands.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed noticed her sweet scent as soon as he opened his door. The state of the kitchen was the other thing that caught his attention. He didn't think she would be stupid enough to leave it in a mess, but he was surprised as hell to find that she had scrubbed it from top to bottom. A little moan drew his eyes to the sofa. She was sleeping again, with his copy of _Moby Dick_ next to her.

She whimpered and squirmed, lost in a painful dream. He watched her turn toward him on her side, one leg emerging from the blanket. The hem of his shirt was tantalizingly high on her thigh. She whimpered again, louder this time.

He guessed Jimmy would have done something to try and comfort her, or some shit like that. He dropped the bag next to her head, waking her with a start and banishing whatever phantom she was fighting with in her dream. It took her a moment to realize how very close she was to showing him more than her thigh. She blushed deeply and rearranged the blanket quickly.

"You found my bag!" She reached for it. He dropped to one knee and grabbed her wrist, hard enough to bruise. He'd expected a pained cry, all he got was a groan through clenched teeth. "What-"

"Forget to tell me something, frail?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" She started to struggle. Anger and fear rolled off of her in equal proportions. "Let me GO!"

He forced her back into the sofa, hovering over her and holding her body immobile with this. She managed to deliver a hard punch to his solar plexus before he caught her other flailing wrist. He grinned down at her. "F'I didn't have something to ask you, this could be fun."

He eased his grip on her wrists just enough to keep the bones from grinding together, but he bent her arms back over the arm of the sofa. An inch more, and they would break.

"You asshole!"

"Ohhh, I expected better than that from the CoH."

She stopped struggling long enough to stare coldly into his eyes. "My mother is CoH, I got dragged along because eleven-year-olds don't have many options when their parents behave like jackasses!"

He'd learned early how to read a face for a lies and danger, even before he'd learned to identify the subtle changes in scent that came with those things. Creed knew she was telling the truth, he eased the pressure on her arms. Even though her eyes were still clashing with his, he felt a tremor of relief go through her body.

"Fuckin' strange for a midlife crisis."

"It wasn't. My father died and she fell apart. Stan swooped in and she fell for all of his crap. He hates me because I didn't and he knew it. He hated Cody because Cody wasn't his and he wasn't man enough to get my mother pregnant."

"Who the fuck is Cody?"

"My brother. He's ten now."

He started at her for a long moment.

"You hit me again, I'll make you wish you were still with Dawes." He got up and let go of her wrists. Because the frail had half a brain in her head, she didn't make a move to attack him. She started to get up. He grasped her arm and sat down again, holding her still. This time, he was more careful with how tightly he held her. "We ain't done. What was Dawes doing here?"

She rubbed the rapidly-developing bruise that circled her forearm. "There's a network small towns close by, isn't there?"

"Yeah."

"Mid-sized city a couple of hours away? The whole area's economy is pretty much in the toilet?"

"He was looking for places to expand into." Creed finished. "And you were supposed to help him with that?" He tightened his grip and let his claws bite into her arm. Not enough to draw blood, but the message was clear.

She winced, but a sarcastic little smile touched her lips, even though she wasn't looking at him. "No. Dawes had all the charisma of a clod of dirt. He was only supposed to be kind of check things out. Stan figured he would either beat me into submission or kill me. Either one would have been fine by him, and Stan. I'm sure they would have told my mother and Cody that I had just run off."

His eyes narrowed, even though there was no deception in what she was saying. "You know an awful lot for someone who's not involved."

Another little smile. "We lived in an old house. Stan had no idea what I could hear through the ductwork." She ventured a glance over at him. "Can I get changed now? Please?"

He snorted and let go of her arm. She grabbed the bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly dressed quickly in one of the faded cotton dresses. She pulled on two pairs of socks, a thermal shirt and a sweater over that. She didn't have a coat, but she would have to worry about that later. The canvas sneakers wouldn't be much good in the snow either, but point was to get the hell away from there, not have a pleasant stroll.

Victor was definitely dangerous, but the longer she was there, the more dangerous she was to him. She folded his shirt and left it on top of the hamper. She remembered seeing some plastic grocery bags under the sink. One of those would do until she could get a needle and thread to fix the tears in her bag. She didn't care that he had gone through it, but he could have at least used the zipper.

A few minutes later she reemerged again. He was in the kitchen eating a thick ham sandwich. She took one of the plastic bags from under the sink.

"Goddamn that's ugly," he said, eying the dress. She couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks for noticing." Kelly thought she caught a little twitch of a smile on his face. "Good thing you won't have to look at it for very long."

"The fuck does that mean?"

"It means I appreciate you saving my life, and because of that I can't stay here and put you in danger. If Stan doesn't hear from Roland for awhile he'll come looking for me. If he finds me here-"

"I look like I can't take care of myself?"

"No, but-"

"Where you gonna go?"

"I don't know-"

"You got any money?"

"No, but I can work-"

"Doing what?"

Kelly was getting flustered. Her heart was pounding. "Well I don't know-"

"So you don't know where you're going, you got no money, and you don't have much of a way of making any." He looked at her. "Well what the fuck could go wrong with that?"

"I get it, it's not a great plan!" She sighed and leaned against the counter. "I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you because I was to scared to leave."

He looked at her and smirked. "People been trying to kill me for a lotta years, and not one of 'em has figured out how to do it yet. Now sit down and eat and stop talking stupid."


	3. First Bite

**Author's Note: Wow...the response to this has been overwhelming for me. Thank you to everyone who commented, and a special thank you to Sweet Little Mary Sue..because 'sexy evil on a plate' has to be my favorite comment/compliment ever!**

**A little bit of mush in this chapter...hopefully only a little...hopefully not so much you won't enjoy. **

**As always, I don't own Victor Creed or anything X-Men, and I make no money from this...I'm just enjoying it a whole heck of a lot!**

**psyche b**

3. First Bite

Creed heard a soft whine from the end of the sofa. He glanced away from CNN for a minute, watching the frail struggle with another nightmare.

It had been a little over a week since he found her, and in all, having her there hadn't been nearly as much of a pain in the ass as he'd thought it was going to be. She was a damn good cook and he only had to tell her once how he liked his food. She kept the place fucking spotless. She listened to him talk when he felt like talking. That wasn't such a big deal in itself. With the right threats he could make damn near anybody _look_ like they were listening. She listened without the threats.

And she smiled at him. Not an "I'm trying to make nice so you won't hurt me anymore" kind of smile either. At first he hadn't known what to make of it. A part of him was still convinced she was hiding something. He didn't think he would ever fully lose that suspicion. He wondered when she would stop smiling.

She whimpered again and drew her knees up tight against her chest.

The dreams were starting to get on his nerves. The first few days, her sleep had been relatively calm, but that was because her body was devoting so much energy to healing. Hell, he slept like that too when he was recovering from something major. After that, he'd started hearing the little whimpers in the middle of the night. Sometimes he'd hear her cry. Usually, he ignored it. That was harder to do when she was next to him like that. He still had no idea how to calm a frail down, but he had to do something to shut her up.

He watched her stretch out again, but she was still trembling. He rolled his eyes and grabbed her ankle carefully. He didn't want to bruise her again, he just wanted to wake her up enough to quiet her down.

The soft sigh surprised him. He felt the relaxation go through her. He looked at her face, and realized the tension had left her forehead too. Well that was just fucking great. Now he'd have to stay like that for the rest of the goddamn night.

He turned his eyes back to his program.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly stepped out of the shower and caught a glimpse of herself in one of the tall mirrors in the bathroom. She couldn't get over the changes in her appearance in the last two weeks. Most of the bruises were gone now. The only ones that remained were the ones over her ribs and the ones he'd given her when he grabbed for forearm. The ones on her ribs had taken on an ugly, mottled greenish color. The ones on her arm still looked almost as fresh as the day it happened. There was still a twinge in her side now and then, and the ache was mostly gone from her arm.

The other changes she attributed to eating so well. Her hair had grown more in the last two weeks that it had in the last two months. She'd noticed that it had taken on the reddish tone that it used to have when she was younger too. Her face was fuller. Her ribs and hipbones were less prominent. Her breasts had a new fullness that threatened to make her bras inadequate. In spite of her loose-fitting clothing, she was certain that Victor had noticed some of those changes.

Kelly wasn't sure how she felt about that. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She knew how she _felt, _but it wasn't exactly logical to feel that way. It wasn't like she had a great deal of experience with things like that either. Up until the last week or so, she had been to preoccupied with her own survival and sanity to think about much else. For the moment, that concern was at least pushed aside. Now she was in the middle of nowhere with a very large man who made her heart race every time he so much as growled in her general direction. Not all of that heart-racing was fear either, although there was still a healthy dose of that. She got the impression that he liked it that way.

The rest was probably just her reading too much into things. Still, there were times when he would kind of force her to be close to him. She had no idea what to do during those times, but he seemed to enjoy how flustered she got.

Kelly pulled one of his shirts over her head and wondered if he looked at himself in that mirror when he stepped out of the shower. Instantly the image of him in just his sweatpants came to mind. It was how he ate breakfast most mornings, and she had all she could do not to stare. Now, she couldn't help but think of the way the mat of dark hair covered his sculpted muscles, accentuating each of them and making Kelly's fingertips practically itch to touch him. Just once. Of course there was also that little line of hair that descended from his navel-

The loud knock shattered the image. "You gonna be in there all fuckin' night?"

"No." Kelly pulled on a pair of panties and ran a brush through her damp hair. How long had she been standing there? She opened the door. "Sorry." She kept her head down as she brushed past him, and hoped he didn't notice how deeply she was blushing.

*~*~*~*~*~*

_Fuck_ she was wet. He could smell it even before she opened the bathroom door. The air inside the bathroom was saturated with the scent.

The first time he'd smelled her arousal, he was sure it couldn't possibly have anything to do with him. It never had before, why should this frail be any different than all the others? It only seemed to happen when he was close to her though. The scent of her confusion came through clearly too. He had no way to interpret that other than she was pissed off at herself for letting him excite her.

She wasn't the only one who was confused though. He'd figured by now, he would have fucked her at least once and probably a whole hell of a lot more than that and been well on his way to being bored and breaking her completely. When he looked at her, he still wanted to fuck her hard and often, but he liked the fact that she didn't flinch when he touched her. It made him want to see exactly how far he could go before she did reject him.

When he came out into the living room again, she was curled up, reading. She'd finished _Moby Dick_ and had moved on to _A Tale of Two Cities_. She was doing her best to look like she was concentrating, but he could tell she wasn't. He grabbed a pad of paper and a pen off the counter and tossed them at her.

"I'm going into town tomorrow to get supplies. Write down what you want from the store." He grabbed the remote and raised from plasma TV from its hiding place in the console table.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly found it strange to be all alone in the cabin. She knew that she'd been alone the day he went looking for Dawes's shack, but she'd spent most of that time asleep. She realized that this was the first time in her life that she'd ever really been completely alone at home, and it didn't take her long to wonder how people lived that way.

She tried to keep busy with her housework, but even with adding extra tasks for herself there was only so much she could do. When everything was washed and polished, Kelly wandered from one lemon-scented room to the other. He'd told her before he left that he would probably be gone until late afternoon. It was too early to start dinner. She couldn't concentrate on reading. She'd never had the opportunity to get involved in the afternoon soaps, but she even tried those at one point. After fifteen minutes of seemingly pointless high drama, she abandoned that too.

She wondered if she would always miss him so much.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The towns in this part of upstate New York were small and separated by anywhere from ten to fifty miles. People who lived there moved between them as if they were different parts of the same city. When he was at the cabin, Creed did the same thing. When he bought the land, one of the things that appealed to him was its central location. Usually, he avoided traveling between towns on the same day because it was generally a pain in the ass. Today he didn't have a choice.

He finished the first part of his errands in Hadley Falls, and then made the forty-five mile drive back to Siler's Lake. Siler's Lake had a population of around five thousand people, but they had at least a dozen bars that he knew of. Some of them wanted to be upscale clubs. Creed had no use for those. Some catered to the redneck set. He generally wasn't welcomed in those kinds of places. He pulled into the parking lot of the Watering Hole at a little before noon. It was a dive, but it was a dive where he knew the bartender.

When he opened the door the smell of sweat, desperation, sex, illness, beer, grease, whiskey, anger and a thousand other sour things hit him. He'd smelled the same scent in every dive he'd ever been in. Some places were more heavily weighted with desperation, in others the topnote of anger carried with more intensity. In all, there was something comforting about the odor, and even he needed his comforts from time to time. He sat at the bar on stool that was more duct tape than vinyl, as far away from the other patron as possible. Without asking, the bartender put a beer in front of him.

"Been awhile since you been in."

Creed halfway smiled. "Miss me?"

"Much as you missed me." The little man grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. "You want your usual?"

"Sure."

The other guy at the end of the bar was already half drunk and itching for someone to listen to his dumbass opinion on the state of the government. The bartender went over to oblige him. He brought Creed another beer when he brought him his 'usual' lunch of four half-pound hamburgers with onions and jalapenos. He'd ate two of them when the other patron's diatribe finished. The bartender wandered back.

"You live somewhere around Route 12, don't you?" The air whistled through the gap in the man's teeth.

"Yeah." Creed had made no effort to keep his location a secret. He'd just made it clear he didn't welcome visitors. "Why?"

"There was some PI asking if anyone had seen a girl up around that way."

He finished chewing slowly, deciding on the best way to get at the information he wanted. "What girl?"

"Hell if I know. He said she was a scrawny little thing, mouthy."

"How's that different from any other woman?" He smiled a little, not wanting to seem too curious. The bartender laughed a bigger laugh than one would expect from such a small man.

"No different at all I guess. PI said this one ran off with a boyfriend her parents didn't like."

"This don't seem like the kind of place kids run off to."

The bartender shrugged. "Her parents found something in her diary about camping up here. He probably figured it was a good place to start."

Creed made a non-committal sound. It was too much of a fuckin' coincidence. His mind was already following multiple courses of possible action to their most likely conclusion. The bartender walked away to give the other patron another beer. It gave him a minute to figure out if he wanted to ask any more questions. When the bartender wandered back, he asked the most obvious one. "There a reward?"

"Didn't ask. He gave me a couple of his cards though." He fished around in the piles of papers near the cash register. "Here, no." He sifted again. "This is it. Take it if you want. I got others."

He accepted the cheap business card and tucked it into his shirt pocket, but not before he noted the name, Ken Embry. "Thanks."

"Another beer?"

"Yeah." A few minutes later the other patron decided he had more to say about taxes or some shit like that. Creed left enough cash to cover his meal and went back out into the sunlight. He had some phone calls to make and he still had the supplies to pick up. That alone drove him more into the depths of pissed off than he already was. He told himself that the next time he did this, the frail would be with him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Link." The man on the other end of the line said. The hacker was eating something. Creed didn't think he'd ever talked him when the reclusive little shit wasn't shoving something in his fucking mouth.

"I need some information on Ken Embry," Creed said. "He's a PI out of Telford, New York."

"Gimme a sec." Creed could hear staccato typing. He'd waited to make the call until he got somewhere private. "This guy must've really pissed you off."

"Why?" He didn't bother trying to hide the little growl in his voice.

"'Cause you sound like you're about to tear somebody apart, that's why."

"Depends on what you tell me."

"Ken Embry? This guy is strictly small potatoes, how the hell is he even on your radar?"

He growled. "Just tell me what you found or you'll be on my fuckin' radar, and if you think I can't find you-"

"Okay, okay." The voice had risen an octave and he started talking faster. "He works alone. His financials are shaky as hell. Looks like before he started doing the PI thing he worked in a grocery store stocking shelves. Clearly doesn't know shit about keeping his computer records safe. He works mainly for the CoH, but it's mostly background checks, shit like that."

"Open investigations?"

"Just one that he's got record of, some runaway teenager named Kelly Demmer."

The name Demmer was familiar to Creed, but he couldn't place it. "I want details. Send 'em to me." He ended the call without waiting for a response. He started unloading bags from the trunk.

This guy sounded like a first class idiot, but given enough time, he might just stumble on to something. The way Creed saw it, he had four options. He could just turn the frail over and be done with the whole fucking mess. He could use the frail for awhile and then kill her, like he had planned to in the beginning. He could meet with Ken Embry and kill him, or he could lead Mr. Embry on a wild goose chase, then kill him at the other end.

He dismissed the first two almost as quickly as he thought of them. He told himself it was because he didn't let other people dictate how or when he played with his toys and let it go at that. The other two wouldn't be as easy to choose between until he got the full report, but he was leaning toward the latter of the two. It would take a little longer, but it would provide a nice false trail for whoever followed after him.

He walked up the outdoor steps that took him over the small hill that sheltered the house from the road. He saw her sitting on a stump in front of the house, her legs crossed Indian style. The sun had re-emerged a few days ago and all but the most deeply sheltered pockets of snow were gone. He knew that wasn't why she was sitting outside though. From the few things she'd said about her past, he knew there were long stretches when she didn't get to see daylight, much less sit outside in it. He knew what that felt like.

He snapped a branch as he started down the other side. No need to scare the hell out of her.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly had wanted to hug him as soon as she saw him coming down the steps, but she stopped herself and took some of the bags instead. There was something wrong though, she could see it as soon as she looked at him. There was a tension in his jaw. She waited until they were inside, but before she could ask what was wrong he set everything down and started to walk away.

"Start putting this shit away. I gotta check on something." He took one of the bags with him and disappeared down the hall before she could say anything. A minute later she heard his bedroom door close.

Kelly looked at the piles of grocery bags and started filling the pantry and the fridge. Once she finished, she started reheating the beef stew she'd made the night before last. She knew he didn't really care for vegetables on their own, but he would eat them if they were covered with enough gravy. After that, she took a small bunch of the grapes he'd bought for her. Kelly couldn't remember the last time she has fresh fruit. With the first bite she closed her eyes and savored the sweet, juicy taste. When she opened them again, he was leaning against the breakfast counter, grinning at her. Kelly blushed deeply.

"I don't know shit about picking out fruit," he said. She could still see the tension in his jaw.

She smiled shyly. "You did a really good job. Thank you. Do you want to try one?"

"Nah. Here." He handed her the bag he'd taken with him. "I'm sick of looking at those ugly fuckin' dresses." He wasn't quite looking at her as he said it. Kelly opened the bag curiously, and was surprised to see it was full of clothing.

"You didn't have to-"

"You gonna stand here and talk all day or you gonna get outta that damn thing?"

"I will, but what's wrong?"

He looked surprised that she would ask the question. "What do you mean?"

"Since you got back you look, I don't know, somewhere between worried and angry."

He watched her, as if thinking about whether or not to tell her. "Get changed."

Kelly opened her mouth to say something, but his narrowed eyes and the low growl that was rising from his chest made her think better of it. He was still blocking most of the doorway, so she had to squeeze past him. Those few seconds of contact brought a deep blush to her cheeks and made her heart flutter a little bit.

Once she was in the bathroom, Kelly wasted no time in unpacking the bag. She found three basic pairs of sweatpants in light gray, black, and hunter green with matching shirts, there were also three t-shirts in dark gray, light gray and light blue. They could have all been traffic cone orange, Kelly wouldn't have cared. She hated those dresses as much as he did. She put on the light gray pants, and light blue t-shirt, figuring the rest should be washed before she wore it.

Everything was a size small, but it was still too big for her. She made the pants work by the tightening the drawstring and rolling up the waist. The shirt would have to work as it was. She picked up the dress and thought about tossing it in the trash. She couldn't quite make herself do that. She stuffed it back in the remnants of her backpack.

He was prodding the fire when she walked into the living room. She went into the kitchen to stir the warming stew. When she turned around again, he was behind her. Kelly jumped back a little. He just grinned. The way his intense eyes slide over her body, she felt as though she was standing there naked. He moved one clawed finger in a slow circle.

She shook her head a little. "I don't-"

He leaned in closer. "C'mon frail, you know you want to." His voice was a soft, dangerous purr that made Kelly's knees go weak.

She swallowed hard crossed her arms over her stomach, trying to get hold of herself. She turned slowly, her eyes down.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" His tone was the same. He lifted her chin with one knuckled finger, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Was it, frail?"

"No." Kelly whispered, her eyes were wide as she looked at him. He grinned and stepped back.

"Better than those fuckin' dresses."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed's plans were in place. Embry had a pretty good smokescreen of competence going, but it didn't take long to find the useless asshole hiding behind it. He was half tempted to use just end it quickly, but the fact that Stepdaddy Stan had sent anyone at all meant that he wasn't going to just give up. A false trail would take longer, but he was sure that it was the right way to do it.

She fuckin' knew something was wrong too. The worry and tension were rolling off of her in waves, and not the kind of tension he enjoyed either. At nearly midnight he glanced over at her. She was still sitting up, hugging her legs, her chin resting on top of her knees. Even in the dark room, he could see the curve of one breast through the wide armhole of his shirt.

"Someone is looking for me, aren't they?" She spoke softly, her head didn't turn.

"What the fuck would make you ask something like that?" If he didn't know better, he would swear she could smell it on him.

She looked down at her blanket covered toes and shrugged. "Since you got back from town, every time you look at me you look...." she paused, searching for the right word. "Upset, or worried, or trying to figure something out."

He grunted. "And you assume it's about you?"

"I didn't at first, but every time you look at me it's....different." She took a deep breath. "Besides, it's been two weeks at least since Stan heard from Dawes."

He was just too fucking curious about the whole thing. He muted the TV. "What'd you _do_ to Stan exactly?"

She looked up at him, for the first time in hours. "I have no idea really. Whatever it was has been wonderfully effective in driving him to distraction though." He saw the corners of her lips twitch, and mischief sparkle in her sea-glass eyes.

He chuckled. "Maybe it was that sharp tongue of yours, frail."

He turned a little to face him, and adjusted the blanket so it was over her shoulders as well as her legs. "Maybe." He noticed she was sitting closer than usual, the little smile was still on her lips. "That's been getting me in trouble since I learned to talk though. I think I've always been too much my father's daughter."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

She looked away again, a different kind of smile played at her lips. "Family legend says he was some kind of mercenary before I was born. I don't know if I believe that, but he did have a way of seeing through what people say and do to what they are. My mother used to say I got that from him. Stan hates it because no matter how many what he did, I wouldn't treat him with the reverence he thought he deserved. Though he is tenacious."

Creed knew where that was going, and he wasn't going to listen to that shit. "You ain't going anyplace."

"He's not going to give up-"

"And I don't give up what's mine until I'm damn good and ready."

She let go of her knees and sat up a little straighter, her eyes wide. "Yours?"

"Mine." He said firmly. He smelled her fear first, then arousal and confusion.

He could see her searching for something, anything to say. She got up and wrapped the blanket around herself. "I need some water, I'm sorry." Her face was hidden in her hair.

He followed, turning her to face him and trapping her in the corner between the sink and the cabinet. He could feel the anger building. If she fucking rejected him he'd-

"What do you mean, 'yours'?" She was looking up at him, trembling. He hadn't been expecting a question.

"What the fuck d'you think it means?" Wilson would have known what to say to her. Some flowery shit about love or whatever it was frails wanted to hear. What could he tell her? That he liked the fact that she went through hell and came out the other side stronger? That he liked her sharp tongue or the fact that she understood his sarcasm? That there were times when she smiled at him that he actually felt fucking _human_ for a minute? "Mine" should have been enough.

She was holding the blanket around herself as if it were a shield. "I don't know how to be....be anybody's." She turned her head away, hiding her face again. "I'd disappoint you-"

She bit down on her lower lip when he twisted his hand in her hair, forcing her to look up at him. "You think I'm gonna let you disappoint me?" He could hear the little whimpers die at the back of her throat, and he eased the pressure on her hair just little.

She looked like she might be about to say something, but he decided he didn't want to hear it. He growled and caught her lower lip in his teeth, grazing the sensitive flesh with one fang, just hard enough to draw blood. He expected her to fight, but the hesitant hand on his shoulder held him closer. Her arousal spiked, so did her fear, and between all that and the flavor of her blood it was all he could do not to fuck her right there. He sucked on her lip and teased the inside of her mouth with his tongue. "Mine."


	4. Other Firsts

**A/N Okay, I admit it...this chapter is mostly fluff, but I hope it's not too sweetly fluffy. I will warn you, it's graphic and bloody and rather dark in places, but considering that we're talking about Victor Creed and not Prince Charming, I think it fits (I might have even made him a little too nice in places). If the graphic, the bloody and the dark disturbs you, please stop reading here! **

**I promise, next chapter will have more plotty things in it. :)**

**As always, thank you so much to those who were kind enough to take the time to review. I get so excited when I see someone liked it. And you all asked some great questions...all of which will (I hope!) be answered in the story as it goes on so I'll just let it unfold.**

**I don't own anything from the X-Men universe, and I make no money from this...I just get to have fun indulging fantasies :)**

**Enjoy!**

**psyche b**

4. Other Firsts

Kelly's knees went weak as soon as she felt him break the skin on the inside edge of her lip. How many times had someone made her bleed? She'd lost count. This was the first time she liked it. She added that to the knot of confusing and conflicting emotions that was growing in her chest. His tongue dipped into her mouth, just long enough to tantalize her.

"Mine." His voice and the implications of the word sent shivers down her spine.

His tongue entered her mouth again, as if proving ownership of his part of her body anyway. She stroked it lightly with hers, feeling its rougher texture and drawing something between a growl and a purr from deep in his chest. She started to tremble. He released her hair, pulled the blanket from her shoulders and picked her up faster than Kelly could respond. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and as soon as she did she could feel how hard he was, and how large he felt against her. Fear started to overwhelm arousal and confusion.

He moved quickly through the house, his claws slicing through the shirt she was wearing. They grazed her skin just hard enough trail stinging fire over her shoulders and back. She shifted first to the left, then to the right. He chuckled darkly.

"Think you're getting away from me, frail?" His voice was a low purr next to her ear. He drew one claw down the middle of her back from the nape of her neck to the waistband of her panties. Her whole body contracted, her legs tightened around him. Kelly buried her face against the side of his neck. She tried to bite back the whimpers and panic that threatened to erupt in tears and struggles despite the arousal that was making her whole body ache for him in a way she hadn't experienced before.

"I can't-"

"Can't what, frail? Can't help gettin' wet for me?"

She heard a door open and a dim light came on. He tore through one side of her panties. The pain of his claws raking over her skin served to focus her mind again. He set her down on his bed and she scampered back, holding the intact shirt front over her body. He advanced on her slowly on his hands and knees, his wide shoulders rolling like a predator's.

He was grinning, his fangs clearly visible. Kelly found herself almost out of space on the bed. Her head was spinning. She was fighting tears, fighting panic and fighting her own desire to have his hands and mouth on her everywhere. It was all too much to process at once.

*~*~*~*~*~*

_Shit!_ This wasn't going how he'd planned. He'd waited long enough to bring her to his bed because he'd never fucked a frail in his own bed before. They'd all been disposable before this. Just an outlet for his lust for sex or blood or both. She was different. She wasn't just a victim, she was _his_. Only now he could see her retreating into herself and he had no fucking idea how to stop it.

He couldn't reassure her. What the fuck would he say? 'I'm not gonna gut you, like I have a thousand others.' 'I promise not to shatter any bones or rupture any internal organs.' 'You'll wake up in the morning.' Real fucking reassuring.

He couldn't even promise not to hurt he because every time he'd caught her skin and sliced through it, he'd smelled the spike in her arousal. The smell of her blood and how she moved against him had made him so fucking hard it was painful. He wanted her to be as willing as she smelled and with her hiding inside herself that wasn't going to happen.

He pulled his shirt off, then grasped her ankle carefully, like he did when she was dreaming. A tremor went through her body. When she started to calm, he moved his hand up her leg as he moved around behind her. Her back was covered in fine, crisscrossing red lines. Half would be gone by tomorrow. Some would take a day. Several by her shoulders were deeper than he intended and blood had started to trickle down her back. He started licking the wounds gently.

He expected her to cringe or beg him to stop. Instead she rested hesitantly against him. He could smell her fear dissipating. When had that ever happened before? He put his arm in front of her, giving her something to lean into.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was so soft, if his hearing hadn't been so keen, he would have missed it. As it was, he had no fucking idea what she meant. He grunted a little, hoping she would go on without him having to ask a question. "I've never done this before and I got really scared when....I got really scared and confused."

He shifted her body so that he could get to the other shoulder. She complied easily. As calm spread through her, her scent sweetened again. Her neck was stretched, presented to him. He nipped softly, drawing fresh blood and then soothing the wound with his lips and tongue. Her arousal wafted to his sensitive nose. He bit into the muscle where her neck joined her shoulder - a little harder this time - because she was just too fucking good to resist. The fear came back, but it was the kind that seasoned her scent with that much more excitement.

"You like that, don't you frail?" He tugged at the piece of ruined shirt she was holding over herself. At first, she held on tightly. A low growl made her give it up. She kept her arms over her breasts and her legs drawn up and crossed. One large hand made its way under her arms to cup her breast, then pinch the nipple roughly. That got another little swallowed whimper. "You answer me when I ask a question."

"Yes." She was squirming. He hadn't eased the pressure on her nipple. Her hand was on his wrist, her short fingernails digging in. "Please, let go."

He started to massage that firm bud of sensitive flesh. She bit back another moan. He knew she liked it from the scent that grew heavier in the air by the minute. "I'm gonna make you fucking scream for me tonight."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly had no doubt that he would do just that. The prospect terrified her and electrified her at the same time. She turned and planted a soft kiss on his shoulder, because it was all she could reach. He looked down at her, one razor sharp talon teased her nipple with just enough pressure to make her tremble. His lips feathered lightly over hers before becoming more demanding and possessive. Kelly was almost accustomed to it but now. She turned to face him a little more, her tongue stroking his.

He grabbed her wrists and pushed her back into the bed. Kelly whimpered against his mouth, but her body arched up to his. Her eyes were closed, her head arched back and turned away, baring her throat, hoping he would give the left side of her neck the same treatment as the right side. He growled and obliged with a gusto that brought tears to her eyes. She struggled against him for a moment, half wanting to get away, half wanting to pull him closer. He held her fast though, then moved down her body. One broad thigh pressed between hers, opening them so his body could settle between them.

It seemed like he stared at her for an eternity before he started to tease her nipples with the flat of his tongue. Kelly didn't even try to hold back a moan when he started to nip and suck firmly. By the time he moved across the valley between her breasts, Kelly was completely lost in the sensations he was drawing from her body. She could feel a tension beginning to build in her lower tummy. Each gentle lick or rough bite only served to build that tension higher. If he had asked, Kelly had no idea which she liked better.

He chuckled and moved down lower, placing sucking kisses and firmer nips on her tummy. He licked her navel and gave her a warning look before letting go of her hands. He grasped her legs behind her knees, pushing them back and open, revealing her. Kelly blushed and started to struggle. Talons bit into her thighs, stopping her.

He chuckled. "Fightin' when you don't even know what I got planned." He moved back and started to place tender, licking kisses down the inside of her left thigh. Kelly moaned and arched. He teased her right thigh, and just the inside of her pouting, open sex.

"Please." The word came out in a sharp whimper. The tension he had build was at an almost painful level.

"Please what?" His tongue teased her tense opening.

Kelly had no idea what he wanted to hear, and she wasn't focused enough to think about it. She grabbed handfuls of the comforter and arched her back. A sharp whimpering escaping her lips.

"Maybe this?" His tongue fluttered over her delicate inner lips.

It was almost too much to take, she was right on the edge and near tears. "Please."

The caress of his breath on her moist flesh was almost enough to send her over the edge, and that 'almost' was more painful than all the times he'd broken her skin. Tears filled her eyes. She pulled harder on the comforter. "Victor!" It was a desperate sob.

He growled and captured the nub of her pleasure between his lips, sucking on it carefully, flicking the tip of his tongue over it. The tension that had been building splintered and then shattered. The world could have ended in that moment of release, Kelly wouldn't have noticed. She felt his claws bite into her legs, holding her still, she felt his mouth continuing to drive her deeper into the pleasure that consumed her, and that was all.

Eventually, she didn't feel those things either. She had no way of knowing how long she stayed in that soft, gray pleasure haze. The first thing she felt was Victor's weight over her. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see him grinning down at her. "Told you I'd make you scream for me."

Kelly blushed and hid her face against his shoulder. He twisted one hand in her hair and forced her to look at him.

"Mine." He purred against her lips. She captured his lower lip between her teeth and traced it with her tongue while her hands explored the planes of muscle she'd been so curious about on his sides and chest. He took control of the kiss, but allowed her hands to explore for a moment longer before he brought them together over her head.

Fear rippled through her again. He held both of her wrists in one hand and then moved forward until she felt something hard and impossibly broad brush against her entrance. She whimpered and twisted her hands in his grip. He held on tighter, and pushed forward sharply. Kelly screamed again, this time it was laced with pain and panic. She barely had her breath back when he growled and pushed forward again.

Her cries mingled with his growls for an agonizing slice of forever. Slowly, most of the pain started to subside and the feeling of being consumed by him began to take over. Her body shook with every hard thrust, she felt bruised and torn, but she felt the stirrings of that pressure beginning to build again. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer. The pressure on her wrists increased, but her pained cry got lost in his roar of release.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed watched the little tremors that shook her body from time to time. She was curled up in a tight little ball, her back against his arm. Now that he was done, he didn't know what to do with her. With the disposable ones it was easy. He killed them or left them for dead and went on about his business. It was simple. This time, a million other things that he had never give a shit about before raced through his mind and not a goddamn one of them had to do with his own enjoyment of her. In a way, that was disturbing to him.

He knew she wasn't a telepath. He'd felt someone fucking around with his thoughts enough times that he would have known right away if she'd been trying something like that. If he'd doubted that, her scent was pure human. Well, not quite so pure anymore. He grinned at that thought. She'd screamed for him, she'd begged, and she'd said his name out loud for the first time since he told her what it was. If anyone had told him that those things would make him feel the same rush of power and dominance he got from rape or murder, he would have laughed. Hell he might still laugh, because the feeling was different. Better in some ways, uncomfortable in others. He wasn't entirely sure that he liked it.

That wasn't the only thing bothering him though. Her scent was wrong. Everything he'd expected was there, the scent of her orgasm and the salt of her tears. The fading scent of blood and bruises from the bites and scratches. The heavier dose of fresh blood from her pussy and his scent weaving through all of it. He'd expected that sweet scent that surrounded her when she was relaxed, but instead the tang of anxiety was starting to creep in. What the fuck was going on in her head?

He turned to look at her, then raised his hand to touch her arm, but thought that would probably upset her more. What the fuck did he know about comforting anybody anyway?

He'd probably comforted Jimmy in the beginning. It was just the two of them and the runt was sick all the goddamn time. Even when he wasn't sick he was always getting hurt somehow. Before the kid's healing factor kicked in it had been up to Victor to keep him alive out in the middle of fuckin' nowhere. He'd buried those memories for so long that he didn't think he could find them again now if he wanted to. Besides, she wasn't Jimmy, and she wasn't sick or weak. Whatever this was, it was different than the dreams she had, too. So what the hell did she need?

Another tremor went through her, this time he caught the scent of fresh tears. She wasn't letting these fall though. He raised his hand again, unsure where to touch her, finally he settled on her hip. A different kind of tremor went through her. She moved until her back was resting against his chest. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the idea that someone could want to be close to him.

He gripped her wrist, intending to turn her to face him. The pained squeak stopped him. She pulled her wrist away quickly and hid it against her chest. He grasped her shoulder and turned her to face him, this time she complied without resistance.

He sat up. "Lemme see." It came out as a rough command.

She sat up more slowly, arranging herself to cover as much of her body as she could. He could see more of the bruises and bites on her breasts though. Her eyes flickered nervously up to his and then down again. He was about to repeat himself when she held out her bruised and swollen left wrist. The feeling of her bones grinding together came back to him.

"Move your fingers."

She complied, the twitch in her eyebrows was the only thing that belied the fact that the movement was uncomfortable. "It's alright, you just surprised me."

"Bullshit." He took her hand in his and manipulated her wrist carefully. The way broken bones felt through flesh was more familiar to him than to most doctors. Wrists and ankles were trickier because of their construction, but after so many years, he figured he was about as accurate as an x-ray. Her jaw clenched. He knew that was probably as much of a reaction as he was going to get from her, so he used that tension as a barometer for her pain. "Not broken."

She smiled a little and turned her hand so that her palm rested on his. She should be pulling away from him. Others had rejected him for less than he'd put her through. For a brief, delicious moment her scent sweetened again. Almost as soon as he noticed the change, it was gone.

"I should let you get some sleep." Her fingers stroked his broad palm softly, exploring the callouses there. "I need something else to wear though."

"Why? You ain't goin' anywhere."

"But, you didn't seem like you-"

"Just shut the fuck up and get under the covers. You already look like you haven't slept in a week." He closed his hand around hers carefully, expecting a spike in her fear. There wasn't any, in fact her anxiety started to dissipate.

"Let me get cleaned up first."

He moved closer and she rested against him. "Like having my scent on what's mine."

The way she looked up at him, he could tell she didn't know what he meant. She didn't ask either. "But the blood is mine, I don't want to get blood all over your sheets." Even though she looked away, he watched a deep blush spread over her cheeks. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Ten minutes. If you're not back, I come and get you."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly had managed to down a couple of the Ibuprofen he'd brought back and get cleaned up in the ten minutes he'd given her. It wasn't the long hot shower she'd wanted, but she'd cleaned away the blood from her skin. She was relieved to find that the bleeding between her legs had stopped too. Just moving hurt. Washing was painful. She hoped he wouldn't be ready for round two for a couple of days at least, but at the same time, the ache to be close to him was more intense than anything physical she'd ever experienced.

Before leaving the bathroom, she wrapped up in the shredded shirt and walked back into the room. She sat with her back to him and started to tie the remnants of his shirt around herself. He shifted and sliced the shirt down her back. This time, he didn't touch her skin.

"What-?"

"I just fucked you and you wanna get all wrapped up like a goddamn Christmas present."

She blushed and put the ruined shirt next to the bed. "I'm not used to that part."

He snorted, an arm snaked around her waist, drawing her tight against him. Kelly knew she should have been afraid, or angry or both. She couldn't muster either of those feelings at that moment. His scent surrounded her, his body was warm, and for the first time in a very long time, Kelly felt truly safe. She closed her eyes and relaxed into him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Her scent sweetened almost as soon as she settled against him. Half of him thought she was fuckin' nuts for falling asleep with her back to a predator. The other half didn't want to let her go. Ever. That wasn't going to happen though. In a few weeks or a few months, she'd find out she was sleeping next to a rapist and a murderer and she'd be disgusted. She'd hate him, and he'd kill her rather than let her go. The idea of losing her made him ache in a way he couldn't define, and that pissed him off.

She turned and snuggled against his chest. Her contented little sigh cut through his anger. Whatever happened later, she fit against him, and she was his.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The first time Kelly woke up, she was alone in the huge bed. She sat up quickly and strained to hear something, anything, to tell her where he was still there. When the door opened, she jumped.

"What?" He asked.

Kelly hadn't expected that he would walk around naked. By the time she realized she was staring, he'd realized it too. She looked away quickly.

"Like what you see?" Even though Kelly was doing her best to hide her face, she could hear the grin in his voice.

She started to look around for something to put on. "It's late. I should get breakfast going-"

He pushed her back into the bed and settled over her. Kelly bit her lower lip to stifle the whimper that rose in her throat.

His mouth came down on hers in a possessive, but careful kiss. Kelly let her tongue explore his while her hands moved over his back. "Scare you frail?" His voice was a soft purr next to her ear.

"A little." She admitted.

He wrapped one of her legs around his waist. A little tremor went through her. She felt his low chuckle as much as she heard it. "Only a little?" He stroked just the tips of his claws down her other thigh. Goosebumps and electrical jolts of pleasure followed the delicate touch of such dangerous instruments. She moaned and wrapped her other leg around him.

Kelly blushed and nuzzled the side of his neck, tentatively stroking the firm muscles with her tongue. He growled softly. "Maybe more than a little."

He nipped her shoulder. Kelly's legs tightened around his waist. If she'd been unsure of his intentions before, pulling him closer dispelled all doubt. "Can't." Her voice was a soft murmur, her fingers traveled down his sides.

He chuckled. "You're already wet for me." Another claiming kiss, a fang catching her lower lip again. Kelly knew she was going to lose this argument. His hips rocked slowly against her, drawing his broad length against the sensitive nub hidden in her folds. Seconds later she forgot why she was arguing in the first place.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed looked down at her. For the past hour she'd been dozing against his chest, a little smile on her lips. He'd wanted to feel her cum while he was inside her. He was familiar with terror, anger, hatred and every possible combination of them conveyed through the contractions of a frail's pussy. Pleasure would be new, but beyond that he wanted to feel her cum for _him_. It had almost happened too, but she was still in too much pain. The smell of her blood and her pleasure hung in the air, though the blood scent wasn't as intense as the night before. He decided that it might be a good thing he'd be gone for a few days. It would give her time to recover.

Now he just had to figure out what the hell he was going to tell her. 'Off to kill the asshole PI Stan hired, don't wait up' was honest, but that would scare the shit out of her, and he wanted her to be there when he got back. It would save him the trouble of tracking her down and dragging her back. Just leaving her with no explanation would scare her just as much and might send her running.

He drew patterns over her back with his claws, carefully avoiding the places that were still healing with the light touches. It was easier when they were disposable. He didn't have to say anything. He didn't have to worry about keeping them, and he didn't have to worry about protecting them. He glanced down at her. She trusted him completely. One hand drifted up to her slender neck. He could snap it now and never wake her up. Then he wouldn't have to worry about what to tell her or Embry or anything else. It would be easy.

The contented little sigh and the half-conscious kiss she pressed over his right nipple derailed the thought completely. He told himself that if he killed her he'd be denying himself all the pleasure he could take from her body. Creed had never been one to deny himself anything.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The second time Kelly woke up, she was snuggled against Victor's chest. She could hear his heart beating. Her arms tightened around him.

"Thought you were gonna sleep all goddamn day." He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger and tugged, forcing her to look at him.

Kelly blushed. "You tired me out."

He snorted. "And you made me hungry."

"Let me get a shower and I'll make..." she glanced at the clock. Her eyebrows rose. "Lunch. I didn't know it was that late." She reached up to disentangle her hair from his hand. He raised an eyebrow and she lowered her hand.

"First we gotta talk."

Kelly's heart sank like a stone into the pit of her stomach. "About what?"

"What the fuck are you looking at me like that for? You don't even know what I'm gonna say."

"I can guess."

"Can you?" The tension on her hair increased and there was a low, dangerous growl in his voice. "So why don't you tell me."

"That you regret saying I was yours, or you just did it to get me in bed-"

He rolled his eyes. "You say the dumbest goddamn things sometimes."

"The way you said-"

"Just shut up before you piss me off."

Kelly closed her mouth and looked up at him. Safe as she felt with him, the idea of his anger being directed fully at her was absolutely terrifying.

"I'm leaving later tonight to get that damn PI off your ass. I'll be gone for a couple days." He didn't quite meet her eyes as he said it.

"What-"

"And I ain't gonna answer any questions about it so you might as well save your breath."

The prospect of spending so long without him was frightening and almost physically painful. "Days?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

His hand cradled the back of her head. "You're gonna do as I tell you and you'll be fine. C'mon, shower and food."

She moved off of him. "I'll let you shower first."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a little smile. "There you go saying stupid shit again." He avoided her bruised wrists and grasped her elbow instead, pulling her along.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the day passed slowly for Kelly. She could see him growing more tense as the day went on too, but when she'd tried to ask about it he hadn't even let her get the sentence out. She didn't try again. Around three, he went into town and came back with a small bag. As on edge as he was, she didn't think it wise to ask what it was. They spent the rest of the day in silence.

After dinner he left her to clean up. Kelly was drying the last pan when she heard him come into the kitchen. She turned and saw him standing here dressed all in black, a long black coat making him look every bit as frightening as the villain in a horror movie. She stepped back and the pan clattered to the floor.

"I know you heard me come in." He set a bag down on a chair.

"Sorry, you just look....really intimidating." Kelly put the pot back in the sink again.

"Good. I need to get going." He sat down and pulled her into his lap. Kelly snuggled close. For a minute, he let her, then he wrapped his hand in her hair and turned her to face him. "I should be back in a couple of days. You're going to stay inside and keep all the doors and windows locked. Anybody knocks, you let 'em keep knocking. Repeat that."

"I understand-"

He growled. "I said repeat it."

Kelly's heart was pounding at the intensity in his eyes. "You should be back in a couple of days. I'll stay inside and keep everything locked. If anyone knocks I should ignore them."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "The first contact is me. If anything unusual happens and I mean _anything_ you call me. If I'm gone more than two weeks and you can't reach me, call the second contact. Repeat that."

Kelly was about to protest again, but the way he looked at her told her that would be a bad idea. She repeated back what he'd told her. "Who is the second contact?"

"Nobody you need to worry about." He kissed her firmly and then let her rest her head on his shoulder. His voice was softer when he spoke again. "And you're going to sleep in my bed, because if I come back and your scent's faded in there, I'll make you wish I'd stayed gone."

Kelly nodded, her face hidden in the crook of his neck.


	5. What Happens in Vegas

**A/N A huge thank you to all the reviewers and all the people who've added this story to their alerts. I was truly overwhelmed with the response to the last chapter and hope I continue to hold your interest with this one, which is...admittedly...a bit different from the last one. You were all itching for more plotty stuff though, right?**

**Okay, so another warning for blood and some smut, but mostly blood and torture and all those things that make Victor...well...Victor. :)**

**Enjoy!**

**psyche b**

5. What Happens In Vegas

Creed fucking hated traveling by air. He didn't like being confined in general, but he especially hated being confined in a tiny, noisy space with a shitload of other people with no way out and no privacy to kill any of them. If this had been a regular job where time didn't matter so much, he would have driven.

The stewardess appeared at his side. "Can I take your coat, Mr. Sanders?"

He glared until she walked away. Even though he was sitting in first class, the seats were still to fucking narrow for his shoulders and too close together. At least there was a good chance this part of the plane wouldn't be packed. He pulled out the book he'd brought along and tried to look like he was absorbed in it. All he succeeded in doing was getting lost in the traces of the frail's scent that still lingered on his coat.

No matter how often or how well it was cleaned, traces of every job he'd ever done clung to the coat. Sweat, shit, blood, piss, brains and everything else a human body could produce, before during and after death had found its way into the fabric at one time or another. It was a subtle miasma that didn't exist in the consciousness of most of the rest of the world, but it reminded him of what he was. Victor Creed, the animal who lived on rage and bloodlust. The heartless bastard who would kill anyone for the right price. The creature who fucking liked the feeling of warm blood splashing his face. The nightmare who could torture the strongest men into insanity. The asshole who left nothing but corpses and grieving in his wake.

He didn't regret a single one of those scents. He was all of those things and more that words hadn't been invented for yet. Her sweet scent mixed with the base notes of gore and terror reminded him that he was something else too. At least for the moment, he was a protector again. Not because someone had paid him to be, but because he had chosen to be. Probably wouldn't last. Probably end up with her fucking blood on the coat. Right now it didn't matter.

He closed his eyes and remembered how she felt curled up against him. She was still too fucking skinny, but the angles of her bones were starting to soften now. Her small hand had rested on his chest, her slim fingers splayed over his heart. Her head had been resting on his shoulder, her sweet scent overlaid with anxiety and healing wounds. Wounds that he'd given her, that she'd practically _begged_ for.

Creed got another rush of power from the memory.

A high pitched giggle shattered the fragile thought. The stench of expensive perfume on a cheap whore assaulted him next. He opened his eyes and watched a man in his sixties lead a girl in her twenties down the aisle, his hand on the small of her back. The scent of two different men wafted off of her as she passed by. They sat two rows ahead of him on the other side of the aisle, with her on the outside.

The incessant chatter was annoying as hell, but he tuned it out. He still had last minute plans to settle his mind to, and he let the collage of scents inspire him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly couldn't say that she was scared exactly. She didn't like being alone, and she wasn't exactly sure how she was going to pass two whole days by herself, but she trusted that Victor wouldn't have left if she were in immediate danger. Why she trusted him at all wasn't clear to her. If anyone else had covered her in bruises and bites and scratches, she wouldn't have been sitting there missing him. She would have fought as hard and as long as she could, and then run as soon as he left her alone for ten minutes.

It wasn't that she doubted he was dangerous either. Kelly knew without doubt that he was _very_ dangerous and that he would make good on every one of the threats he'd made, if she gave him reason. There was more to him than that though, whether he wanted her to see it or not. He made her smile, both with his sarcasm and the way he could turn a veiled threat into something approximating an endearment. He didn't ask a thousand questions about Stan or what he'd done to her. She got the impression that he had a pretty good idea already. If she'd had to guess, she would say he'd been through worse.

It was nearly midnight when she turned off the TV and checked the doors and windows for the last time. She wasn't sure she was going to be able to sleep, but at least the pillows smelled like him. Kelly brought her book with her.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The Jackpot Inn was a hellhole on the shitty side of Las Vegas, but it was an anonymous hellhole. Creed sat in room seven and listened to the drunk next door fucking some whore. The ancient air conditioning unit sputtered and rattled and occasionally made a sound like an explosion was imminent, but actually cooling the air with any efficiency seemed beneath it. He fucking hated Las Vegas to begin with, but the oppressive heat of the room and the caterwauling from next door had served to drive him deeper into the depths of murderously pissed off than he should have been at that point.

He reminded himself that he'd chosen this city for a long list of very good reasons, not the least of which was that it was most of the way across the fucking country from where he intended to keep her. Vegas had an appeal for the desperate, the depraved and those who wanted to disappear. He figured if she were really on her own, she would know that she needed to disappear and he figured she would get desperate pretty fucking quick. He had contacts there too. They were all perfectly logical reasons, and none of them made him any happier about the drunk or the lack of air conditioning.

He glanced at his watch when he heard a car drive up out front. It was nearly eight, right on time. He stood up and waited for the knock on the door. When he opened it, he found a hard-looking woman with greenish skin standing there. She tried to put on an alluring smile. He stood there with his arms crossed, looking down on her.

"You a shifter?"

"Sure am, babe." The voice was as hard as the rest of her. The stench cheap perfume, cheaper booze and unwashed flesh coming off of her mixed with the filthy smell of the room. It was something else he tried to block out.

"Show me."

"I ain't gonna-"

He growled, one hand shot out, grabbing her upper arm hard. She screeched in pain. "You're gonna do exactly what I fuckin' tell you to do."

"Shit! You crazy or somethin'? Lemme go!"

"Show me!" He'd bellowed loud enough to draw a look from a wino looking for returnable bottles on the other side of the parking lot.

"_Shit_! I'll do it, let me go!"

He loosened his grip enough so that she could twist her arm away from him. A moment later, he was looking at a rail thin white-skinned blond with cartoonishly big tits. He snorted and stepped aside so she could enter the room.

"So," she smiled again. The smile was just as hard and just as repellant as it had been before, even though the lips were fuller. "This what you like?" She ran her hands over her breasts and tweaked her prominent nipples.

"Fuck no. Thought Dan told you this was somethin' special." He took his phone out of his pocket.

"I dunno, you look pretty goddamn special to me." She'd taken on her familiar green hue and lit a cigarette.

"Real fucking comedian, aren't you?" He found the picture he'd secretly taken of Kelly when she was putting away the groceries. He hadn't been able to get her whole face, but he got enough of a profile and a good enough view of the line of her body to make a good starting point. "This."

She laughed. It was a rough-edged cynical sound. "You want that skinny little bitch? You got some kinda anorexia fetish?"

He slammed her against the wall so fast that she barely had time to grunt when the plaster cracked behind her. His hand closed around her throat, stifling the protest. "You're going to listen to me and you're gonna listen good, because shifter whores like you are every-fuckin'-place in this town. Nobody's gonna notice if one goes missing. You understand me?"

Her eyes were wide and starting to water. The smell of her fear was completely delicious. She nodded as much as she could.

"Good. Now, you're not gonna say a fucking word. You're gonna shift to look like whoever I want you to look like, and if you don't do it fuckin' perfect I'll gut you and find someone else who can." He slammed her back again, hard enough to knock the wind out of her. He was rewarded with another wave of fear that rolled across the small space that separated them. It made his mouth water for what was coming. He dropped the half-strangled woman.

She coughed and cringed at his feet.

"Get your ass up."

She wheezed. "You tried to kill me you asshole!"

"If I'd been trying to kill you, you wouldn't be breathing now." He used a hard boot to her stomach as punctuation. "Get up."

*~*~*~*~*~*

It had been ridiculously easy. Well, after the whore stopped rolling around on the floor whining.

The plan had been simple. He'd contacted Embry and spun him a nice little story about how he'd met Kelly when she was hitching to the airport. Nearest airport is four hours away so even though she was only in his car for an hour, they'd had time to get to know each other. She'd told him she was headed to Vegas to work as a pole dancer at a club called The Petting Zoo. The owner, Dan Gleason, owed him and wouldn't ask questions so confirmation was easy enough to arrange. The asshole hadn't even bothered to check it out first, just got on a plane.

Embry was watching the place, that much Creed learned his first night in town. The shifter worked there anyway. All she had to do was walk into the alley next to the club heading for an employee's entrance with her new look, Embry'd pulled into the alley and made a phone call about finding her. All Creed had had to do was wait for the fat fuck to get out of his car and walk by. Embry was unconscious and stuffed into the trunk of his own rental car before he knew what was going on.

Now Embry was trussed up like a fucking Christmas goose in the sub-basement old warehouse. Creed was especially pleased with his choice of location. He'd worked there before and he chose the same room because it served his purposes so well. Embry's wide-spread arms were handcuffed. He was hanging by his wrists from restraints carefully placed in a network of pipes in the ceiling. His ankles were secured to a ring Creed had set in the cement floor on a previous occasion.

Creed sat in the shadows and watched Embry start to wake up. A wave of terror rolled off of him when he recognized the dire situation that he was in. Creed smiled and stepped out into the light. This was going to be fun.

"Morning." His murderous grin clearly baring his fangs. Embry stared and then started struggling harder. The screams weren't far behind. His position and the struggling didn't leave him a great deal of breath to scream with though.

"You might want to save some of that. In a minute you're going to have a lot more to fucking scream about." He took off his coat and laid it over the back of the chair he'd been sitting in. "Lemme tell you how this is going to go. You're going to answer the questions I ask, and you're going to tell me the truth."

"Or what?" It was false bravado.

He moved behind the suspended man. "Or I get to see how much of your fucking blood I can spill before you die. Wanna know my personal best?" His voice was a soft purr.

"Not going to tell you anything." The man tried to sound defiant.

Creed laughed. It was an icy sound that was almost as cutting as his claws. "Well there's something I've never heard before." He sliced easily through Embry's clothing. He needed skin for what he had in mind, and nakedness made a victim feel so much more helpless. He took none of the care that he had with the frail, but he kept the deep gouges along the sides of the PI's body. Screams echoed around him, forming chords of pain and terror that were as familiar and pleasing to Creed as the thick aromas of blood and fear. He walked around the bleeding man in slow circles, giving his victim time to contemplate his situation.

"Now, where to start." Creed brought one hand to his chin, leaving it smeared with blood. He ignored Embry's begging and started stripping the skin from the man's right arm. He didn't think he'd ever heard a man scream at that particular pitch. A woman yes, but not a man. He continued until he was a quarter of the way around the flabby arm. He left the skin peeled back and started to walk again, creating just enough air current to make Embry's pain worse.

"Who's looking for Kelly Demmer?"

There was nothing but whimpering and mumbled prayers from the suspended man. Creed stopped and wrapped his bloody fingers in the man's short brown hair, forcing him to look into his killer's eyes.

"Suit yourself. I can keep this up until I start stripping the fucking muscles off your worthless ass. If you live that long."

He whined. "I was just doing what I was told!"

"So was Eichmann. Who hired you?" Creed repeated, his eyes narrowed.

"Her father."

"Bullshit." He started on Embry's left arm.

"That's what he told me!" Embry screamed. Creed ignored it. He went on until the left arm was in the same state as the right.

"So what's his fucking name?"

"Stanley! Stanley Wilton!"

"That's more like it." He gave the hanging skin on Embry's right arm a sharp tug and waited until the PI's scream died before he went on. "Why's he so interested in getting her back?"

"I didn't ask, but he told me she was stubborn and spoiled. He said I should do whatever I had to do to get her back." Embry was sobbing now. His tears running down his chest. Creed decided to use that to his advantage. He started working on the right side of Embry's chest, down to the bottom edge of his ribcage. This time, when the skin was completely free he dangled the piece of flesh in front of Embry's eyes. The PI vomited, causing himself even more pain as the acid from his stomach hit the stripped patch of flesh. Creed chuckled at the happy accident.

"Stubborn and spoiled huh." Creed started walking again. Stubborn he could see, but spoiled? It was so ridiculous it was almost enough to piss him off even more. He knew if he let his anger take over Embry wouldn't last long enough to tell him anything else.

"Shit I don't know, that's what he told me. Please, let me go. I swear I won't-"

The plea was cut short with a scream when Creed ripped more of the skin from Embry's right arm.

"We ain't done until I fuckin' say we're done, and then you're not going to be in any kinda shape to tell anybody anything. Tell me about Stanley."

"He's an accountant." Embry said quickly.

It was too quick. "Keep fuckin' lying to me." Creed started working on the other side of the man's chest. This time, he stuffed the piece of flesh into the PI's screaming mouth. He chuckled when the horrified man spit it out at him.

"CoH. He works for CoH in local outreach."

Embry's breathing was getting shallower. That was a consequence of how he was bound, but he'd lost quite a bit of blood too. In that state, Creed was sure he was telling the truth as he knew it.

"Just local shit?"

"He wants to do more, but he's still just local." Embry's eyes were looking glassy and he'd just about outlived his usefulness anyway.

He leaned in close and wrapped one hand around the PI's throat. "Who else is looking for her?"

"N-nobody! I swear!" Victor held Embry's eyes. He smelled terror, impending death, puke, blood and the truth of the PI's statement. "Wilton's got no money to hire anybody else. She sure as hell doesn't have-"

"The frail is mine and she's gonna stay mine until I decide otherwise." With the claws on his thumb and forefinger, he sliced through both carotids at the same time the stepped back. Not to avoid the spurting blood, but to avoid the piss and shit that always went along with death.

He'd gotten a better idea of what Stan was up to, he'd also gotten the chance to get his claws into something that screamed. For those reasons alone it was a satisfying kill. He didn't think for one fucking minute that the frail was completely safe. She never would be as long as she was with him. At least he had a better idea of what Stan was; a vindictive asshole with ambition. The most dangerous kind.

Creed sat down for a few minutes, he feet propped up on the wall. There would be time to take care of the body after he'd had a drink. He took a beer out of the six-pack he'd found in the PI's car. It was warm and wasn't the brand he liked, but he was sitting under a warehouse with a half-skinned body a few feet away. This wasn't the time to be picky.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly hadn't slept more than a couple of hours at a stretch since Victor left. She'd watched endless hours of television. She'd finished the book she was reading and got a good ways into another. She'd cleaned most of the house from top to bottom. She was still hesitant about even being in his bedroom, let alone moving his things around, so she hadn't done anything but the basics in there. His study was still completely off limits. Kelly was achingly curious about what was behind that closed door, but she was afraid of drawing his anger for what amounted to nothing more than a lack of self-control. She was sure that he would treat open defiance more harshly than a mistake.

The phone he'd given her was another source of temptation. She didn't care about the second contact so much. In fact that, the whole idea of finding out who that contact was scared Kelly a little. Whoever that person was, contact with him or her meant that Victor was gone, and that was not something that Kelly wanted to think about.

A couple of times she'd been tempted to call him, but he didn't seem like the kind of person who spent hours on the phone talking about nothing. In truth, she wasn't either. Half of what stopped her was not knowing what to say if he answered.

The main temptation of the phone was to call Cody. It wasn't logical and Kelly knew that. The only phone was in Stan's den, and even if her mother or Cody happened to be in there when it rang they weren't allowed to answer it. None of hat stopped her from practically aching to talk to her brother again. For so long, Cody had been her reason for working overtime to keep Stan angry at her. It had kept him safe a portion of the time.

She had no idea what Victor would think about getting him out of there, but she had a pretty good idea what Cody would think of Victor. He was so young when their mother joined the CoH that he didn't really have another way to think about the world and people in it. Cody hated Stan, but he believed all the hateful crap their stepfather spewed on a regular basis. Just thinking about it made her head hurt.

At around one in the morning, Kelly was nodding off on the couch. She forced herself to get up and go to bed. She might not be sleeping much, but it was easier to dream of Victor when she was in his bed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed pulled in to the concealed driveway at a little after six-thirty in the morning. He'd been gone a little less than sixty hours and hadn't managed to sleep more than two hours at a stretch. Didn't matter. He was used to that. He wasn't used to all the fucking wondering that had gone along with this trip. He wondered what the frail was doing and if she had done what he told her about staying inside. If she was sleeping in his bed. If she was playing with her pussy while she thought of him. Course that would mean she was thinking of him and he wasn't even sure she was doing that.

He'd thought about calling after Embry was dead. But what the fuck would he say? "Just called to say hi, but now I have to go dismember a corpse, so have a nice day." If she hadn't already run off she would after hearing that. It was easier to just not say anything and let her fill in the blanks.

He stretched when he got out of the car, grabbed his bag and started over the hill, avoiding the path. He could see that a light was on in the kitchen. Most of the early morning light was still filtered out by the thick woods that surrounded the place. He moved silently in the dark around the house, letting his senses tell him if she'd obeyed him about staying inside at least. Her scent was there, but it was faded. He smiled, the idea of her obeying him sent another rush of power straight to his groin.

After one circuit, he walked into the kitchen, expecting to find her there. An orange sat in a bowl, half-peeled. The kettle was on and the water was about to boil, but she was nowhere in sight. He turned the burner off. The smell of her fear was bright and sharp in the air. What the fuck?

The phone on his belt started to vibrate. He checked the number and rolled his eyes. "Creed."

"There's someone here!" She sounded terrified.

"I know. Me."

There was a long pause. "What do you-?"

He followed the trail of her fear to his bedroom door. "Just get your ass out here before I have to tear my own goddamn door off the hinges."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly cursed herself for being so stupid. She slid the bolt and opened the door slowly. He was standing there, staring down at her, half amused, half angry.

Kelly managed a little shrug, her heart was pounding. "I did what you said."

He looked at the phone and held out his hand. Kelly felt her blush deepen. She closed it and placed it in his hand. He put it in a pocket. "Victor-"

"Shut up and get out here. Or do I have to repeat myself _again_?" The low growl followed his last word. It made her knees tremble. Kelly wished she was wearing more than the t-shirt she'd slept in. She moved into the hall with him.

"I'll make breakfast."

His hand twined in her hair, tugging her head back so that she was looking up at him. "After."

"After what?" Kelly's voice was barely audible. He grinned and massaged one hard nipple through her shirt, drawing a little moan from her.

"After I fuck what's mine." His fingers tightened on her nipple, sending jolts of pain and aching desire through her. "Take this off." He tugged at the shirt. "Or I'm gonna fucking shred it." He let go of her hair.

Kelly blushed deeply, but pulled the shirt off. He traced the healing bite on her right breast with the tip of one claw. That wicked instrument continued down over her puckered nipple, drawing a deep moan from Kelly.

"Missed me, didn't you frail?" He purred next to her ear. Before Kelly could respond, he lifted her and slammed her back against the wall. Her groan was lost in his aggressive kiss. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her legs around his waist. His fingertips traveled down over her side to her panties, she reached down and grasped his wrist.

"No don't." He stopped, she could feel new tension in his muscles.

"You really think you wanna say no to me?" The tone in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Then you better explain real fuckin' quick."

"I just meant than I've only got three pairs of panties-"

"Like you better without 'em." He tore through the sides of the garment. Kelly whimpered softly when he pulled the scrap of fabric from between then and held it to his nose. A grin spread across his face. Kelly looked away, but her hands moved over his arms and chest. She could feel how hard he was already. Her hands fumbled with his belt. He chuckled and moved her hands away. "Tell me what you want, frail." His mouth was on hers again, her body supported by one arm around her waist and the wall. She whimpered when she heard his pants fall to the floor.

"Tell me, or I'll keep you on the edge all fucking day." One knuckle explored her folds, rubbing the small button concealed there. Kelly arched against him, her head hit the wall with a thump, but she didn't feel it. True to his word, he backed off. His mouth traveled down the side of her neck, biting just hard enough to draw blood. He purred next to her ear. "You know I can do it."

"Want to feel you inside me." The words were little more than a whimper, but they were all he needed to hear. He chuckled and slammed into her. Kelly screamed. It was shocking and painful and exactly what she needed. Kelly buried her face against his shoulder, her nails biting into his back. Her hips met his, her cries mixed with his growls until the pleasure consumed her in a fast-moving fire. Her head hit the wall again. His roar filled the small space as the rush of his pleasure filled her body.

Kelly felt him sit down, his back against the other wall. She rested against his chest, her body limp, trembling. How long they sat there with his hands and claws playing lightly over her back, she couldn't say. Eventually, she wanted to feel more of his skin, she lifted his shirt. He chuckled and took it off. She sighed and relaxed against his broad chest. She heard him sniffing the air.

"Your shoulder's infected."

Kelly glanced at the red-edged scratches. "It does look a little red." She put her head down again. "I can't reach those on my own."

The backs of his claws traveled lightly down the middle of her back. "You didn't get much sleep either."

"Was a little more on edge than usual."

"That how you knew someone was outside?"

Kelly thought about that for a minute. "I don't know really. That little tree that's growing outside the kitchen window moved, but that seemed wrong because there wasn't any wind."

"Could've been an animal." His hands moved down to her his and then back up.

"It was quiet. It seemed like an animal big enough to make the tree move that much would have made noise. Only a person would have bothered to be quiet."

He chuckled. "You don't miss a fucking thing, do you?"

Kelly smiled against his shoulder. "Clearly I missed that whoever it was didn't have to break in."

"How long will it take you to pack?"

Kelly froze. "Pack what?"

"I dunno, those two pairs of panties you have left and whatever else you've got."

"Half an hour maybe." Her heart was starting to pound. He couldn't he saying what she thought he was saying. "Why?"

"Don't take much to make you nervous does it?" He draped one heavy arm around her. "The why is because I'm getting you the fuck out of here. Embry ain't gonna come back but this is the last place anybody is sure you were."

"Where?"

"Another one of my hideouts. Think you can be ready to leave by nightfall?"

Kelly nodded. It would take her further away from Cody, but he was right. Stan wasn't just going to give up and she'd be better off trying to figure it all out from a distance.

"Maybe we can both get some fuckin' sleep between now and then."


	6. Ask Me No More Questions

**A/N Sorry this has taken so long. I've been finishing a major project and doing wild and impetuous things with friends before my semester starts again. :)**

**I'll admit that this is mostly fluff, but hopefully it's not too sweetly fluffy to be interesting.**

**Again, I own nothing from the X-Men and make no money, I just have a lot of fun writing this. **

**Enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think!**

**psyche b**

6. Ask Me No More Questions

He'd let her sleep for a few minutes, mostly to try and figure out why the hell he wasn't pissed off at her. The point where the left side of her neck joined her shoulder was covered in scabbed wounds and ringed with bruises. There were other healing marks on her tits, and one on her stomach. The scent of old wounds and gathering infection in her shoulder reminded him that she was so fucking fragile. The flick of a claw in the right spot could kill her. A grip that was too tight or a push that was too hard would break those bones that still made hard hills and soft valleys under her pale skin.

He should have been pissed off. He should have hated her for her human frailty. He should have wanted to tear her apart, just because he could. Just to feel her warm blood covering him. Just to smell her shock and terror. Sitting there, listening to her sigh in her sleep, he couldn't picture any of that with any clarity. If anybody ever found out, he'd never live it down and she'd never survive it.

"What's wrong?" she murmured.

How the fuck was she always inside his head when she wasn't? "What do you mean?"

"You got tense." Her hands drifted along his sides and back.

He tugged her hair, so that she was looking at him. "Did I?" He felt a little tremor go through her.

A little shrug. "You're all muscle. Sitting here like this, I couldn't miss it." A little smile ghosted over her lips.

He let the corner of his mouth twitch. "Get the fuck up." He let go of her hair. She winced a little as she moved off of him and reached for her shirt. "Leave that off."

She blushed and held the fabric in front of herself. "But if you want breakfast-"

"First I'm gonna put something on your shoulder. The stench is driving me fucking nuts."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly sat on the rim of the tub, shivering while he pulled gauze pads, tape, peroxide and antibiotic ointment out of the cabinets. All if it was newly purchased and used only by her to clean her other wounds. She wondered why he stayed there with no first aid supplies at all. Anything could happen.

"I said turn around."

Kelly put her back to him again and bit her lower lip, the shirt held in front of her. She heard him pouring something in the sink.

"Gonna reopen the infected ones. Hold still."

He ran the tip of one claw slowly along the length of each scratch. She recognized the intense, burning sting as alcohol. Kelly fought to stay silent and still. By the time he'd reached the third one, her fingernails were biting into her thigh so hard she was certain she was going to draw blood there too. He started treating the wounds with peroxide-soaked gauze.

"Th-there are four that I can't reach." She hated to mention it, but she didn't want to have to go through this again if she could help it.

"I know. The fourth one ain't infected." He cleaned the wound efficiently, but she could tell he wasn't trying to cause her undue pain.

"How can you tell? Is it not as red as the others?" She turned, trying to get a view of the back of her shoulder. He put one hand on her head and turned it toward the wall again.

"Told you, I can smell it."

"I didn't think you meant that literally."

He snorted. "I'm feral. Scent's like another kind of vision for me."

"I didn't know." The sharpness of the pain faded to a dull, throbbing ache.

"Obviously." He started again, this time with a new pad. His hands were almost soothing. "You ever met any kind of mutant before?"

"My best friend in grade school did something with electricity."

"What?"

"I'm not sure. It scared her and I think it scared her parents too. They sent her to some kind of special school a week before..." she stopped. "Before everything else happened."

He spread soothing ointment over the wounds, then taped a dry gauze pad over all of it. "That why you didn't fall for all that CoH shit?"

Kelly shrugged with her other shoulder. "That, and the fact that drunken monkeys could come up with more logical reasons to hate bananas than the CoH has for hating mutants."

His fingers paused as he was smoothing down the last piece of tape. For a minute Kelly was nervous that she'd said something wrong. Then he started to laugh. Kelly blushed a little and turned her head, he nipped her ear. "Put your shirt on. I'm hungry."

Kelly pulled the shirt over her head. "What do you want?"

"How the fuck should I know? Something with sausage." He didn't make a move to help her out of the tub, but he stood there and let her use his crossed arms to hold onto for balance. "And you're having something more than an orange."

*~*~*~*~*~*

He looked down at her sleeping profile. After breakfast he'd wanted to get some real sleep. She'd prattled on about packing and getting things in order. He hadn't bothered listening. He'd picked her up, put her over one shoulder and brought her with him. She'd complained the whole way, but it took all of five fucking minutes before she curled up against him and went to sleep. He'd wrapped himself around her and nodded off too, at least for a few hours.

Now, as he was looking down at her, he tried to figure out where the best place would be to keep her safe. The place in West Virginia had been his first thought. It was in the mountains in the middle of fucking nowhere. He'd used it to lay low for months at a time. When he was there, it would be perfect. When he wasn't, she'd be vulnerable because of the isolation.

The place in Maine was the other option. He'd bought it on a whim. If he'd been able to get drunk he would have claimed drunkenness, anything but the real reason. It was huge and rambling, perched on a bluff overlooking the ocean. It was probably beautiful when it was first built, he'd made it better. More suited to himself and his lifestyle.

One hand drifted down over her thigh. She sighed and turned to face him, snuggling against his chest.

Maybe he'd tell her the real reason. Hell, maybe she'd guess.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly woke up to Victor pinching her nipples. She smiled and let herself get lost in the way he mixed pleasure and pain so thoroughly that she couldn't tell where one started and and the other ended. It still confused her, but that confusion was waning in importance. Maybe that made her some kind of pervert, she didn't much care. She knew that whatever the reason, she was able to be vulnerable for a few minutes. Maybe it never would make sense. Maybe that was alright.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Her head was resting on his chest, his fingers drifting through her hair.

"Told you." He let the tips of his claws rake lightly over her scalp, sending pleasant shivers down her spine.

"You didn't tell me where through." Her eyes were closed.

His hand paused. "Why?"

"Because I'm curious." Her tone hadn't lost the dreamy quality of deep relaxation.

"What if I don't tell you? What're you gonna do?" There was a little smirk in his voice.

Kelly shrugged. "Don't know. Are you ticklish?"

"Am I _what_?"

"Ticklish." One fingertip had barely started to stroke over his ribs. Before she knew what was happening, Kelly found herself on her back with her wrists pinned over he head by one large hand. Fear washed over her instantly. Kelly bit her lower lip and started to twist her hands in his firm grip. He held her still, but traced the pad of one finger down over her sternum and around her navel. His pointed claw never touched her skin. For some reason that calmed her. When she relaxed, he grinned down at her.

"Guess that's something else you're not gonna find out today, frail."

She arched and squirmed, this time it wasn't out of fear though. He wasn't squeezing her wrists hard enough to cause pain, but she wasn't able to pull her hands away either. Kelly started to laugh. "That is not fair!"

"Who the fuck said I had to be fair?" He nipped her lower lip, just hard enough to draw a drop of blood. "C'mon, lunch."

*~*~*~*~*~*

For Kelly, the afternoon passed in fits and starts. The thought of leaving the cabin for some unknown destination was terrifying. He'd called it one of his 'hideouts', but that didn't stop her imagination from spinning wild tales of ending up with someone else like Dawes, or worse. At around mid-afternoon, she'd tried asking again.

He growled. "Did I stutter the first time, frail?"

"No, but-"

He started advancing on her, backing her up against the bookshelves. "But you just thought that if you fuckin' pick at me enough I'd break down and tell you."

"No, I-"

"No?" He traced her cheek with one claw. "You sure about that answer?"

Kelly's heart was pounding, she grasped the shelf behind her to stop the tremors that wouldn't be suppressed any other way. "I was just curious, I didn't mean-"

His hand moved down and settled around her throat. It was closed just tightly enough to send terror racing through her body. "You gonna ask again?"

Kelly shook her head.

"Out loud."

"No." Kelly whispered. He held her there for a minute, his intense eyes locked on hers as if deciding whether or not she was telling the truth. Finally he let her go and turned around heading toward the hall. She closed her eyes and tried to stay still until he disappeared. When he paused in the doorway, Kelly almost started shaking, despite her best efforts to be still. His eyes weren't on her, though, and he kept walking. She heard the door to the study open and slam shut.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed started pacing as soon as the door was closed behind him, covering the spacious room in four long strides before turning and covering the same distance again. He should have beaten her. Not enough to kill her, just enough to teach her a goddamn good lesson and to prove that he wasn't all empty threats. She looked at him like she expected it though. Like she was fucking ready to just go running deep inside herself so she wouldn't have to to be mentally present while her body was being bruised and broken. He knew that trick better than he would ever admit to. The fact that he could see her getting ready to slip away meant that she'd done it so much it was second nature to her. That pissed him off in a whole different way than her questions had.

He didn't give a rat's ass that she hadn't been his when it happened. The fact that under any other circumstance he would have used her until she was no good to him and either killed her or left her for dead didn't matter either. She was his now. And why the fuck couldn't she understand that? He'd told her often enough, hadn't he? He'd even tried not to make her bleed when he fucked her. Did she think he was bothering with that for his own goddamn health?

As soon as he'd told her about leaving the change in her had started. Sure she did all the usual shit she always did, but there was something different about that too, like she was memorizing things with all of weak human senses. The way the counter felt under her fingertips. The way the books on the shelves smelled when she straightened them. The way the wind through the trees made the woods here sound like a breathing creature sometimes. Even the way his claws felt when they slid through her skin. It wasn't like she could be so fucking attached to this place, she hadn't been here long enough for that. She was locking it all away though, like she was never going to-

He stopped, his head snapped up. That was it. It was fucking stupid, but smart as she was, she was just a frail.

Creed left the room silently. He was fairly certain he wasn't going to find her curled up in a ball crying somewhere. She might be a fairly stupid frail from time to time, but she wasn't a weak one, ever. He saw her standing on a chair in the kitchen, polishing the knotty pine cabinets. Apprehensive fear hung in the air. He made sure to let her hear him move closer. She didn't turn to look at him.

He leaned against the door frame. "You did that before I left."

Her arm paused, but she didn't turn. "I wasn't sure where it would be done again."

"Dunno. Whenever you get back here I guess, unless you fall and crack your head open first. Then I don't know when." He shrugged and looked disinterested.

She looked over her shoulder, a little smile tugging at her lips. "I'm short, I'm used to climbing on chairs."

"Well I ain't used to looking up at you." He crossed the room and put his hands on her hips. She put down the cloth she was using. He set her on her feet again, her back to him. His hands moved around her waist possessively, stroking over her stomach. "There's no Roland Dawes at the other end of this, frail." A tremor went through her.

"I never said-"

"I fuckin' know that. 'F you had I wouldn't have been pacing for the last half hour trying to figure out what's going on in your goddamn head."

Her fingertips stroked the backs of his hands, then down over his fingers to the smooth backs of his claws. "That's not it."

"You're a bad liar." His voice was soft, the tips of his claws bit into the soft flesh of her abdomen. He felt her tremble. Her anxiety spiked. "Somethin' makin' you nervous frail?" He pressed a little harder, so that he was just on the edge of breaking her skin. She leaned back against him.

"It's always worse." She whispered. He could smell the tears she was fighting, as well as fear and anger that threatened to overwhelm her. It was a volatile cocktail, and if the scent of her blood had been added to it, he would have fucked her again on the freshly scrubbed tile floor. "Every new place, it's just another circle of Hell. Is it so bad that I want to know what I'm walking into? Or that I want to memorize everything about the one place I've actually been able to relax?"

"And you'd just go?" He stroked her stomach, feeling the indentations he'd made in her skin, even through her shirt.

She almost laughed. "Well fed and well rested I might have a chance against Stan or Dawes. Nothing in the world would give me a chance against you."

He gave a little snort. "That's the first sensible thing you've said in the last five minutes." Even though it was laced with sarcasm, his voice was still a soft rumble. The scent of her tears receded. He traced one finger over the bruised bites on the side of her neck, pressing just hard enough to cause a jolt of pain to course through her. "Don't see anybody else walking around wearing my fucking marks."

The little mewling sound she made spoke volumes, even if he hadn't noticed the peaks of her nipples against the shirt. He grinned. "Don't get me too turned on, Kitten. You won't get dinner before we leave."

She turned, her arms slid around his waist, her face snuggled against his chest. There was a little smile on her face. His hands paused barely and inch from her body. He'd never fucking understand frails, but he'd be damned if he'd let this one just grab him whenever she wanted. He growled and pushed her back into the edge of the counter hard enough that she'd have an oblong bruise across her back as a reminder. She let out a pained gasp, his mouth closed over hers in an aggressive kiss, stifling whatever sound she was going to make. His fingers tangled in her hair pulling hard enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes. When he felt her surrender completely his mouth softened, his fingers stroked down the back of her neck. Finally, he stepped back and drew her against him again. This time she hesitated for just a heartbeat before settling against him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly's fears weren't completely gone, but they were at least back under control again. Nothing in what he said or how he said it indicated insincerity to her. The fact that he said it at all made it even more important to her. All afternoon, she reminded herself of those things. He'd told her he wanted to leave at seven, so they ate early to give her time to put the kitchen back in order before they left. The food that could be frozen already was. He'd told her the rest would be taken care of by his cleaning service.

At ten of seven she finished chapter fifteen in part II of _20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. _She's hoped to finish it before they left, but that wasn't going to happen. She put it back on the shelf.

"Did you finish it?" He was carrying three black bags. She could tell one was made for a laptop. One was a duffel bag that probably held clothing. She had no idea what was in the other one, but she'd seen him carry it when he left before, too.

"No, but-"

He rolled his eyes. "Then take the fucking book with you. It's my goddamn house we're going to, the thing ain't gonna turn to dust if you take it out of here."

She smiled a little. "Thanks."

"You read _The Time Machine_ yet?"

"No, I haven't."

"Bring it. I don't remember if I have a copy at the other place or not."

Kelly found that one as well. She put both books in the large shopping bag he'd brought her sweats back in. It held the few items she had as well as her ruined backpack. She had a separate bag of first aid supplies. She knew she might need to change the bandage on her shoulder at some point at least. She pulled on her sweater.

"You about ready?"

"All set." She managed a little smile.

He looked at her as if he didn't like what he saw. "You need something warmer than that."

"I'll put on an extra sweatshirt if I get cold." Kelly had a hard time not squirming under the weight of his disapproval.

"Fuck that." He set his bags down and disappeared into the bedroom again. She moved her things into the kitchen, busying her hands by straightening dishtowels.

"Here." He tossed a fleece-lined brown leather jacket at her. It was predictably far too big, but it was warm.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Except for the bridge crossing into Vermont, Creed stuck to back roads that only locals and criminals would know. It would take longer, but he didn't exactly have a time table to keep. His next scheduled job was a month away, and if he needed to put that off her could. The frail had been awake for the first couple of hours, but she eventually nodded off. She was curled up on the bench seat of the old Chevy, her head rested against the window. His jacket was draped over her like a blanket, her knees were drawn up, as if she were hiding under it. He could smell her anxiety. It reminded him of a time when Jimmy had smelled exactly the same way.

It was the middle of the second winter he and Jimmy were on their own. That first winter had been so fucking hard on the runt that Victor hadn't been entirely sure the kid would survive another one. He hated the idea of going into a settlement, he knew they'd look at him like he was some kind of monster.

And he'd fucking tried. He hadn't needed any of them, but for Jimmy's sake he'd put up with the stares and the comments. He'd put up with being worked like a fucking animal and left hungry and cold in whatever barn, outhouse or woodpile nobody chased them out of. He would have kept putting up with it too if Jimmy had fared any better. He was just as sick as he had been the winter before. They were both just as cold, both just as miserable, both just as hungry, and now they had other people telling them how fucking grateful they should be for all of it.

He didn't remember exactly what the last straw was, but he was fairly certain it was something that happened to Jimmy. The years and conscious effort to forget the details of that part of his existence had served to effectively eradicate most of them. He knew for certain that they'd tried to leave the first time soon after sunrise. A storm had broken the night before and the sun was shining for the first time in days. They hadn't gotten far when a group of men from the settlement caught up with them and dragged them back, accusing them of stealing chickens. It was a fucking excuse, everybody knew it. That's when the hatred and his rage really came out, like pus from a boil. He'd started fighting back, but that made it worse for Jimmy and the runt couldn't take it. He'd fucking let them beat the hell out of him until they got tired. Without a healing factor, Jimmy damn near died from that beating he got.

Three weeks later, Jimmy was well enough to try again, but Victor had waited for another storm. They'd set off in the middle of the night as the blizzard raged around them. Jimmy had complained every step of the way. He hadn't been thrilled either, but the blowing snow would cover their trail, and the weather was bad enough that he'd doubted anyone would try and follow for long. Just before dawn, he'd found a cave. It kept them out of the wind, and he'd gotten a small fire going. Jimmy finally fell into an exhausted, nervous sleep. He'd stayed up, keeping watch and planning where they would go from there.

The frail whimpered in her sleep. He reached out and stroked her leg absently, expecting her to settle again. Instead she woke up.

"Where are we?" Her voice was still muddled with sleep.

"Still in Vermont." He slowed the car and turned onto a nearly hidden dirt road. A few minutes later, the headlights picked out a decrepit barn in the distance.

She sat up straighter and her anxiety spiked.

"We're switching vehicles. Stay here."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly put the jacket on again and zipped it. She watched him move what looked like a loose board just enough to expose a numeric key pad. He punched in a code and she heard a whirring noise. Light leaked out from between the gaps in the wooden doors. He unlocked those and got back in the car. He drove in to the clean, well-lighted space of a building within a building. She got out of the car when he did.

She looked around. "This is....wow."

He chuckled. "You think I'd leave my shit laying around in the middle of nowhere with no protection?"

"I'm not sure what I thought."

He pulled a cover off a deep blue Escalade with dark tinted windows. Kelly didn't realize her mouth was hanging open until she saw him grinning at her, his fangs clearly visible.

She blushed. "Okay, so I wasn't expecting that either."

He chuckled. Kelly was sure this man didn't need any help with his ego, but she could tell from the set of his shoulders that he liked seeing her impressed with something he owned.

He opened the trunk and started transferring bags. "C'mon."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed had been sure that she was going to annoy the shit out of him on this trip, but every time he expected her to be a pain in the ass she wasn't. He was supposed to be the unpredictable one, frails were supposed to be easy to read. Course he'd never spent this much time with a conscious one before, maybe they were all like that.

She'd had her eyes closed for the past hour, but he knew she wasn't sleeping. The anxiety had settled around her again, though it wasn't as strong as before. He guessed he would count that as a step in a positive direction.

"Ever see the ocean, frail?" He asked.

She glanced over at him, as if surprised to hear his voice. "When I was four we went to Florida and I know we spent some time at the beach. I used to have pictures of it, but I don't really remember it. I guess I was too young." Her voice was soft, like it was before she fell asleep.

"Used to have pictures?" Something about the way she said it struck him, he glanced over at her. She was looking out the window into the darkness.

She shrugged. "Things happen."

He wondered if she knew how unconvincing it sounded. He let a growl creep into his voice. "I can guess what happened."

She gave a little nod and looked over her shoulder at him. She tried to manage a smile. "Why do you ask about the ocean?"

"The house is near the ocean."

Another small smile, this one more genuine. Her eyes lingered on him. "Sounds beautiful."

"Started out as a pile of shit. It's pretty livable now though."

She laughed softly, it dispelled some of the anxiety that had settled around her. When he glanced over, he could see that some of the animation had returned to her eyes. One bare foot protruded from her makeshift blanket.

"Will you be upset with me if I ask how much further?"

He reached out and grasped her ankle, allowing his claws to tease her soft flesh. She moved her leg a little closer. "Close to four a.m. now. I figure we'll stop for breakfast in a couple of hours, we should be there by nine." He scratched carefully, just enough to raise stinging red marks that would be gone before they stopped for breakfast. "Any other questions, frail?"

He smelled the barest hint of her arousal. The anxiety was almost entirely gone. "No." She smiled drowsily.

He turned his eyes back to the road, but kept his hand on her ankle.


	7. Creed's Folly

**A/N A HUGE thank you to everyone who's been following this story from the beginning and to the new people who've stumbled onto it only recently. I love that people are enjoying reading this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it, but it also gets me so excited when so many people take time to review and let me know what they think.**

**Hopefully, this chapter is up to par. There are a number of segments that deal with memories and I'm hoping that they aren't too jarring. There is some nice smut in there so hopefully that will make up for any other imperfections it might have. :) In the next chapter, we get into some more plotty kind of stuff. **

**As always, let me know what you think! And, still don't own the X-Men, make no money, just write for fun.**

**psyche b**

7. Creed's Folly

The lack of motion woke Kelly out of a tenuous sleep. "Are we there?" she asked absently, rubbing at her eyes.

"If by 'there' you mean 'breakfast', yes." He smirked a little.

Kelly glanced out the window at the neat, white building they were parked in front of. She could see several people through the wide windows framed with blue and white checked curtains. She started pulling her fingers through her hair, trying to put it in some kind of order. She glanced in the mirror on her sun visor and decided she looked about as presentable as she could be after traveling all night. It struck her that she hadn't even seen anyone else since he found her in the woods.

"You gonna fuss all goddamn morning?"

"No, sorry." Kelly blushed.

She had to trot to keep up with him across the parking lot.

"Just the two of you this morning?" The hostess, an older woman with frizzy blond hair, smiled. A Maine accent softened some of her words and expanded others.

"Yeah." Victor answered, his eyes scanning the room.

"Table or-"

"That booth." He pointed to a corner booth that had a view of the whole room as well as the door.

The hostess looked like she was about to protest, but he raised an eyebrow. She picked up two menus. "Follow me."

They both followed the woman through the half-full room. Some of the other patrons stared openly, some took great care not to look. When he glanced back at her, Kelly could see his jaw clench just a little tighter.

"Susan'll be your waitress. She'll be right with you."

"Where are your restrooms?" Kelly asked.

"Right over there, dear." She pointed to the far corner of the room.

Kelly caught the look of motherly concern, but ignored it. "Thank you." She looked at Victor. "I'll be right back."

She waited for him to acknowledge what she said with a nod before she walked away. Kelly could feel his eyes on her until she was out of sight behind the closed bathroom door.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Alice's Kitchen wasn't his first choice. He'd been to the house in Maine three times, and each time he'd stopped at Gordon's Truck Stop. It was a grungy place with a transient clientele and an equally transient staff that didn't give a shit if you were a serial killer or the fucking president himself. They'd serve you the same greasy food and forget your face as soon as the bill was paid.

He'd actually pulled in there, but then he'd looked over at the frail. She was curled up on the seat, her delicate ankles were bare and crossed. The top one still bore a pink scratch over her anklebone from earlier. She wouldn't have complained. Not about the shitty food, the leering looks she was sure to draw, or the stink of unwashed flesh that always surrounded those places. She'd been kept wallowing in shit too fucking long in his opinion. He'd driven out again without waking her, telling himself that it was a preventative measure. He was preventing some asshole who looked at her too long from going home with his balls in a to go box. That was him, Victor Creed, protector of fucking humanity.

Alice's was one of those places where he was never sure of the reception he was going to get. This wasn't the worst he'd seen, but the stares and whispers started as soon as they walked in the door. He knew the frail noticed the looks, he could tell that much when he glanced back at her. He could also tell that she wasn't just ignoring it or oblivious to it, she just didn't give a shit. That was almost enough to make him smile.

*~*~*~*~*~*

As Kelly made her way back from the bathroom she noticed two things; one was that everyone in the room seemed to be trying not to look at her while they speculated to their companions about 'what that poor girl is doing with that mutant', and the other thing was that the coffee cup Victor was drinking from was almost completely dwarfed by his hand. When she passed a table of four old ladies who were particularly loud in their speculations she casually flipped her hair over her shoulder, giving them a good view of some of the bites and bruises on the side of her neck.

He looked at her closely. There was a blend of pleasure and lust in his eyes. "You did that on purpose."

Kelly shrugged, a smile playing around her mouth. "If they want to talk, I figure they should have something to talk about." She sipped the apple juice he'd ordered for her. "I don't think I've ever seen you drink coffee."

He growled softly. "They don't serve beer until four."

"This isn't somewhere you would usually stop, is it."

"Just figure out what you want."

Kelly scanned the menu. She couldn't remember the last time she had so many choices and it was all a little overwhelming. Usually she ate pretty much what he did, with some extra fruits and vegetables. She chewed on her lower lip, feeling stupid for being so anxious about something so normal. The tip of one claw stroked lightly over the back of her hand. She lifted her eyes.

"What do you like to eat that I don't?"

"I don't know, fruit, sweet things sometimes-"

"Good. You're still too damn skinny." He took his hand away from hers.

She sighed. "I'm an idiot aren't I?"

"Yeah," he finished the last of his coffee and grinned, his fangs clearly visible. "But don't worry, I'll break you of it."

Kelly couldn't help but blush at the suggestive purr in his voice.

"Are you folks ready to order?" The waitress looked nervously at Victor.

"Yeah. I want three orders of steak and eggs and I want the steak nice and rare."

"You want two of those to go and one now?"

He looked up at her, Kelly could see how hard he was working to keep his tone level. "No. I want all three now." He looked at Kelly. "Frail?"

"The french toast."

"You want bacon or sausage with that, hon?"

"Sausage, please." Kelly wasn't sure she would eat it, but Victor probably would. Even thought she was getting used to it, the amount he ate was still amazing to her.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly spent the rest of the trip awake with her book open in her lap. Her anxiety was still there, but this trip had been so much different than the trip with Roland had been. It was less than a month ago that she'd been bundled into Roland's car, but it seemed more like years now. It had only taken Roland three hours to drive to the parking area where he'd left the rusty hatchback. It'd been dark and her scalp had been bleeding. Her wrists were bound with electrical tape and secured to the door handle. The whole time she'd spent listening him to him talk, not because he was interesting, but because through the fog of shock and pain she knew she was going to have to figure a way out or he was going to kill her.

Victor had never said anything more about how Roland had 'died', and she had never asked. She was fairly certain that Victor had killed him. In the beginning, she'd tried to muster some kind of shock or revulsion about that, but she couldn't. She knew Roland was carrying a gun. However Victor had done it, he'd been defending himself. The fact was, if she'd been able to find or make the opportunity she would have done it herself.

She was still waffling on whether or not he'd killed the PI Stan had sent after her. Victor could have just sent him in the wrong direction, but the way he said 'Embry won't be back' seemed more final than that. She was probably reading too much into it. Victor was big and intimidating and she was convinced that he liked to scare people, she knew he was good at it. She never thought for one moment that the threats he made to her were just words. But a killer? She told herself that was impossible. Now she just had to convince herself.

Kelly focused on her book again. Last time she'd had to listen to Dawes yammer on while her hands went numb and the blood from her head wound soaked the neckline of her dress, pasting it to her skin. This time, she was well-fed, warm, and listening to Beethoven. She glanced over at Victor, a little smile crossed her face and she let herself be absorbed into the world of Captain Nemo and the Nautilus.

*~*~*~*~*~*

He'd left the lane almost exactly as he'd found it, cutting the vegetation back only enough to insure he could drive in and out without scratching up a vehicle. The trees still grew close to the road and close to each other, the branches reaching out and crossing overhead. The frail noticed the change in the quality of light and lifted her head from her book.

She shifted nervously in her seat. Anxiety was starting to creep into her scent again, but this time it was mixed with excitement.

"Gate's around the bend." He couldn't help but smile a little.

"There's a gate?"

"You think I'm gonna bring you someplace just any asshole can walk into?"

She blushed. "I didn't know what you had planned really."

As soon as they were around the next sinuous curve, an intricate wrought iron gate came into view. It was one of his additions. A spiked fence effectively cut off the large section of land around the house. There were other details about the gate and the fence, but she didn't need to know any of that for the moment. He pulled up to a box and punched in a code. The gate opened, and he drove in.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Calling it a house was a gross understatement in Kelly's opinion. The long driveway lead to a sprawling Victorian mansion. Ivy had gained a foothold on the right side, but what she could see was a weathered gray stone. Octagonal towers watched their approach through narrow, arched windows. Her eyes danced over the slopes and slants of the rooflines, following each one until it intersected two more, making her head spin.

"You just wanna sit and look at it, or you wanna go in?" He was grinning again. She hadn't realized they'd stopped.

"It's amazing." She breathed, still hesitating to get out, afraid it was some sort of dream and opening the door would shatter it.

He grasped her hand, lightly nipped the meaty part of the heel. Kelly jumped a little. "Got your attention now, frail?" He was still wearing a self-satisfied grin.

"Yes." She blushed.

"Good." He drew his tongue over the spot on her hand. "C'mon."

Kelly got out and followed him into a spacious entry hall. The soft beeping of a security system drew her attention. He used another code to silence it. Kelly walked a little further inside. A wide staircase curved upward. A cut crystal bowl sat on an antique table, catching and fragmenting the light that poured in. Two chairs and several paintings appeared to be from the same period. She walked further inside, taking it all in. The sound of her steps were suddenly muffled by the deep oriental carpet that occupied the center of the space. She heard him chuckle behind her.

Uncertainty hit her and Kelly shook her head a little. "It's too nice, I'll break something." She took a step back. "I'm clumsy, I always have been." She took another step and hit his body.

He picked up the crystal bowl and threw it casually at the hardwood floor. Kelly recoiled from the shattering glass. "Shit happens. When I'm around it tends to happen a lot."

Kelly needed to move to hide the little tremors that were going through her, even if she couldn't fully explain why she felt like shaking in the first place. "Where do you keep your broom?"

"Gonna break you of that, frail." He was wearing a predatory smile.

Kelly stepped away from him, her heart beating faster. "Cleaning up broken glass? That seems like a good thing to me." She couldn't suppress all of the little tremor in her voice.

He advanced with a lazy stride. "Running away when you don't know where you're going ain't too fuckin' smart."

She moved back slowly, maintaining the distance between them. "Not running away, just looking for a broom." Kelly opened the first door on her right and found a spacious sitting room. His continued advance drove her deeper into the room.

"Find one?" He closed the door behind himself.

Kelly heard the soft click of the lock turning. His grin grew wider. Her eyes darted around the well-appointed room, until they landed on another door in the far corner. She tried for a non-committal shrug and failed. "It was only a first try."

He followed at the same slow, stalking pace. Kelly could hear blood rushing in her ears. She reached for the doorknob, before her fingers could touch it, his hand was on the door, his body close to hers.

"Off limits, frail." His voice was both seductive and frightening. He leaned close to her ear, the tip of one claw playing over the back of her neck. "And you know what happens to little girls who go places they shouldn't." The rough surface of his tongue stroked over the shell of her ear. Kelly bit her lower lip, but the soft whimper still escaped. He let her slide out of the little trap he had her in. He turned with her, the two of them moving in a predatory dance.

"Goin' someplace?" He chuckled darkly. For each step he advanced, she retreated until she ran into the back of the sofa. Her fingers dug into the cushioned back and she began to edge more toward the door that lead to the hall. He allowed her to get to the end of the sofa before caging her in with one arm. She shifted to go the other way, but found that avenue of escape blocked as well.

Her eyes were locked on his, her breath coming faster. "Victor-"

He smiled and pulled one finger down the front of her chest, his claw slicing through her sweatshirt and the front of her bra. When he reached the hem, he pushed the ruined garments off of her shoulders without touching her skin. The lack of contact made Kelly aware of just how much she needed him to touch her. He bumped his head against hers and pushed in a gesture of feline affection as his claws sliced through the waistband of her pants and down over her hip. This time though, her skin wasn't spared. Kelly whimpered softly and pushed back against his head with hers while the rest of her clothing pooled around her feet.

"Want something, frail?" His voice was low and laced with danger. Just the tips of his claws danced over her naked skin. Kelly arched her back, her nipples puckered and throbbing. He deftly avoided them, then circled around the dusky pink edge. Kelly nodded, her knees trembled. "If you're good, maybe I'll let you cum." He nipped her earlobe. "You gonna be good?"

"Yes." She would have agreed to just about anything in that moment. Her fingers dug into the sofa cushions. Her head was swimming in need and ache and fear and his musky scent. "Please." Kelly was certain that in another minute she wouldn't be able to breathe at all, let alone form words.

He dragged his rough tongue along the side of her neck. She tilted her head, presenting it to him. "We'll see." He nipped. "You're gonna walk to the other side of the sofa and put your back to me."

Kelly hesitated, then did what he said. To still the nervous trembling, she crossed her arms over her breasts.

"Three steps forward, and kneel."

She could feel his hungry gaze boring into her back. Her legs trembled as she moved. With every step the slick wetness between her legs reminded her of how much she needed him. As she knelt, she heard him moving around behind her, shedding his clothing. "What-"

"Playing twenty fuckin' questions ain't what I had in mind." He put his hand on the back of her neck, his fingers wrapped partway around her throat from behind. The pressure of his thumb on the side of her neck kept her head turned away from him. "Got anything else you wanna ask?"

"No." The word was barely a whisper.

"Smart answer." He pushed against the back of her neck. Kelly ended up on her hands and knees. He pushed again, but she resisted. He clucked his tongue and traced her lower lips with on claw. Kelly started to tremble.

"I don't think you really wanna fight with me frail, so I'm gonna to be a nice guy and give you another chance." He pushed again, harder this time. Kelly ended up with her cheek against the carpet. "Better."

His mouth started to move down her spine, following the shivers that were already racing along that pathway. She didn't resist when he opened her legs wider, his fingers followed the same trail his mouth had blazed, leaving her throat. For what seemed like forever, he didn't touch her at all. Kelly started to tremble again. A thousand half-formed awful possibilities spun inside her head.

Then she felt his tongue tease over her delicate inner lips. Her gasp was filled with as much shock as pleasure. His hands covered her hips, the heels of his hands opening her wider, letting his tongue find the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden in her folds. His tongue flickered over it, bringing her right to the edge. Then, without warning, his hands and mouth were both gone.

"Please don't stop now!" She whimpered.

He chuckled. "You weren't good. Be thankful I decided not to punish you." She felt him shift, the broad head of his erection pressing against her entrance. Claws bit into her already injured hip as he pushed as deeply inside her as her body would allow. The suddenness ripped a scream from Kelly's throat. Her fingers bit into the carpet, her back arched.

One large hand stroked down her back, his body folding over hers. She could feel his low purr as much as she heard it. Slowly, she felt herself relaxing. He nipped her shoulder and started to move hard and fast. Before long, Kelly lost track of the rough texture of the carpet against her cheek and nipples. She didn't feel his claws biting into her hip anymore. She felt his sweaty chest moving against her back and she felt him inside her and that was all.

When the pleasure overtook her she screamed again. This time he didn't stop, he just kept pushing her further into it. His roar of release seemed like something unimportant on the edge of her consciousness.

*~*~*~*~*~*

She lay on her side, his tongue moved over the long scratches he'd made on her hip. Her blood was almost as sweet as her pussy. He'd cut her deeper than he intended at the crest of her hipbone. It might leave a scar, but she wouldn't need stitches. Either way, he wasn't about to let her get another infection. His tongue moved over the deepest part of the wound. She trembled and reached down, pushing against his shoulder. He grabbed her wrist with a warning growl.

"Hurts." She murmured.

"Didn't complain when I gave it to you."

She closed her eyes and curled up a little more. The little tremors and the subtle changes in her scent told him when he'd hit a particularly sensitive spot. He didn't back off, but he used more care. The terror from the hall had dissipated completely, at least for the moment.

He'd wanted to tell her it was all bullshit. Everything she was hearing in her head, every fucking thing that asshole ever said to her that made her doubt herself was bullshit spewed by a coward who couldn't find his own balls with a microscope. Telling her that would mean he'd have to admit that he'd heard the same things in his own head at one time.

The first time he'd bought a place was in 1947 in Wyoming. Plenty of land, nice big custom lodge, good hunting. Fucking perfect. He'd never had any plans to settle there, but he'd wanted somewhere to go back to on occasion. Someplace where the bed wasn't too fucking short for him to stretch out in and where he didn't have to bend down to fit in the shower. Someplace where he didn't have to wallow in the stink of other people day and night.

When it was finished it was everything he'd wanted, and the first time he'd walked inside his head echoed with everything his father had ever said animals like him don't deserve. It was too loud and too much and he'd torn the fucking door off the hinges getting out of there. He'd held onto the place for thirty years, but he never set foot in it again. Not even after he'd found another place in Oregon.

The scent of terror on her and the way she wanted to run away from it had brought it all back and pissed him off, both because of the reminder and because he didn't know how to shelter her from it. He knew how to break shit and fuck her until she forgot her own name for a few minutes. Maybe that would be enough to get her through the worst of it.

He looked up at her again. Her eyes were still closed, but she was starting to shiver.

"What's the matter now?" He managed to sound annoyed.

"Cold. Someone took all my clothes away before the heat was even on."

A little snort. "Suppose you blame me for that." He stacked some logs in the fireplace and before long had a fire going. When he turned around again, she was using his flannel shirt as a blanket.

"You did it."

"Was driven to it." He grasped her arm as he walked by, pulling her to her feet and then down next to him when he laid down on the sofa. She curled up against his side and he shifted her body so that she was between him and the cushioned back. She sighed, but didn't say anything more for a few minutes.

"You have to stop doing that." She said finally.

He rolled his eyes. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Tearing my clothes like that. I'm not going to have any left."

"There's a goddamn mall half an hour away. Much as I'd like to keep you bare ass naked all the time you'd probably get frostbite or pneumonia or some shit like that. 'Sides, I happen to like that part." His hand was under the shirt, his claws traveling in slow circles over her back. It still amazed him that she was able to relax when he touched her that way. For the next few minutes that's exactly what she did. Finally she opened her eyes and started looking around the room.

The half he wasn't going to sit on was done in period pieces. All of the furniture that had to bear his weight was newly built, large enough to be comfortable and styled to blend in to the rest. He watched her eyes settle on the painting over the fireplace. She looked at him and back at the painting again.

"Who's that?" She asked finally.

"Guy who built the place the first time, Captain Phillip Howlett."

"Is that his wife with him?" Her eyes were still on the painting.

"Yeah." A little tremor went through her. He pulled her head down against his shoulder again. "Why?"

"She doesn't look very happy. She looks kind of scared of him."

He shrugged a little. "Was an arranged marriage maybe she didn't like the arrangement. He built this place for her and went off to sea. First time he came back, second time he didn't. She figured he was dead and started fucking some guy from the village."

"But he wasn't?"

"Nah, just stranded somewhere for awhile. Anyway when he got back he killed her and the guy and just walked away from the house. Place was halfway falling down when I bought it."

She looked at him and back at the painting.

"What?"

"Maybe it's the mutton chops." She put her head down again. "There's just something that strikes me about the two of you."

"Think your frail imagination is in overdrive."

She closed her eyes again, her fingers drifted over his chest and stomach. He wasn't sure if she accepted that or not, but she seemed willing to let the subject drop. There was no blood between him and the fine, upstanding Howlett clan. There was no blood between Jimmy and them either, considering that Jimmy's whore of a mother had spread her legs for his father the first chance she got. Still, the runt was treated like one of them. The whore saw to that, even trying to keep him away from his own brother. He didn't know when he made the promise to himself that he'd have more than they did. That he'd have_ better_ than they did.

Phillip was an uncle to John Howlett, the runt's supposed father. He'd heard whispers about the marriage and the way it ended, but never paid any attention to it. It was just shit that frails liked to whisper about. He forgot about it completely until he saw the painting in a gallery window. Finding the house was easy. He'd been half tempted to just tear the fucking thing down and start from scratch the place was in such bad shape.

The goddamn historical society had started some injunction bullshit though. He could have fought it but he didn't really give a shit. He'd held out though, let the old crones bluster and complain for close to three months. Just when they were talking about lawyers he 'relented'. They were so fucking glad he restoring most of it that his plan to rearrange the upstairs seemed like a small price to pay.

He'd finished it three years ago, and over that time had spent close to three months in it. Didn't matter. It was theirs, and now it was his. Just like the frail was his. She rested more heavily against him, and he could feel her nodding off. He moved her hair out of her face. A little smiled moved over her lips and she glanced up at him.

"C'mon."

"Where?"

He growled. "Well if you want a fucking itinerary, first, I'm going to get up and then I'll bring in the shit we brought with us. Then I figured you'd want to get cleaned up and changed so that we can get you something more to wear so you don't complain every goddamn time I shred something. That meet with your approval or did I fuck up something in the middle?"

She blushed and hid against him a little. "Do you want your shirt back?"

He sat up and shrugged. "Ain't that cold to me. Guess I can wait until you have something else to put on."

How this frail could piss him off one minute and make him feel like taking care of her the next was beyond him. He usually stopped at the pissed off part. She sat up and kissed his shoulder. "Thank you." Her small hand rested on his bicep. For just a heartbeat he let her linger there, then he pushed her away and got up.

"I never did find the broom." She was curled up, trying not to watch him get dressed.

"Kitchen is the second door on the left. Must be in there somewhere." He walked toward the door. "And don't go out there barefoot."


	8. Humanity In Focus

**Hi All!**

**I'm REALLY glad you all liked the last chapter so much, I promised this one will have more plotty stuff and it will. I hadn't meant for it to take SO long to get it finished, but reality has been intervening more than I expected in the last couple of weeks. I hope it was worth the wait!**

**Thank you to those who take time to review, especially to those of you who take time to review in detail. I always wonder if what I write comes across how I hope it will. Knowing that it does always makes me smile.**

**I admit this chapter is riddled with sentimentality. Hopefully, it'll be a good read and you can forgive me for that.**

**As always, I don't own X-Men, I don't make any money from writing this.....I just get to spend time fantasizing. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

**psyche b**

8. Humanity In Focus

_He could hear heavy footsteps on the floor above him. Every so often they would pause. Every so often little plumes of dirt would come through the cracks in the floorboards. The old man was getting himself ready. Getting himself good and drunk. Letting the alcohol get him good and mean. He knew what was coming next, he just didn't know what form it was going to take._

_A beating? That hadn't satisfied the old man last time because Victor hadn't screamed. No, he'd want blood and screaming, and the more the better. _

_Victor pulled at the chains holding him to a thick wooden post, but his eight year old arms were too weak to budge the heavy fittings. They were too far over his head to dig out with his claws. Terror tore at his heart and made his head spin. He did his best to push it aside, to replace it with rage and indifference._

_Finally, weak, yellow light pierced the darkness and he could hear the old man's heavy boots on the narrow stairs. He carried a pair of pliers._

"_You sleepin' ya bastard freak?" The alcohol slurred his words, the stink of that and the hatred was almost enough to make the boy vomit. That would have pleased the old man too much. "Gonna make ya normal 'f it fuckin' kills ya."_

_The pliers grasped the claw on the little finger of his right hand. He tried not to scream. He told himself not to scream. The old man pulled. The boy stayed silent as long as he could. Before the claw was ripped from its bed, a scream was torn from his throat. The pain made him retch._

_The old man started to laugh. "Nine more to go, ya pussy freak. Then I'll get to those fuckin' teeth of yers." _

_The old man grabbed the claw on Victor's ring finger and started to pull._

*~*~*~*~*~*

He woke roaring, claws extended, slashing at the darkness. He wanted to slice, to tear flesh from bone, to rip through intestines and drag them out into the light. He wanted to destroy all vestiges of that dark time, to forget he was the chained boy in the dreams.The vision of dirt and darkness lingered, as did the stench of his own blood and terror. The rage kept one of his feet planted in the past.

The present returned in pieces. He was on his feet, the other pieces of the dark room replaced the phantom images of the dream. The scents were hardest to banish, mostly because terror and rage had been rolling out of his pores for so long the air was fucking saturated with it. There was another scent too. Something sweet laced with soft vanilla clung to the pillows and a subtle difference in the scent of the fear in the air.

He ripped the shredded blankets back, searching for her, for her blood, for any trace of the frail who'd fallen asleep curled up against his shoulder. There was nothing. He turned on the light, just to reassure himself that what his other senses were telling him was accurate. Aside from long slits in the sheets and blankets, nothing in the room was out of place.

Creed followed her scent to the closed closet door. To be fair, it was more of a room where he hung his clothes than the usual idea of a closet. Whatever you called it, it seemed like a goddamn stupid place to hide. Course it was the only avenue of escape that didn't take her within his sight-line. Maybe it wasn't so fucking stupid after all. He opened the door slowly. Even without the light from the room, he would have picked her out easily enough. She was hugging her knees as if trying to disappear into the far corner of the space. She'd put on one of his shirts, and her dark chestnut hair was hiding her face. He could tell that she was holding her breath.

What the fuck was he going to say to her? If he'd found her in his unconscious rage he'd be cleaning pieces of her off the ceiling right now. He got the feeling that she knew it too. "Frail."

She shifted slightly, so that she could look at him from behind the curtain of her hair. "Are you..." she paused, searching for the right words, "You were so..." She took a deep breath. Her body shook with the effort.

He approached her slowly. When he was sure she wasn't going to run, he sat down behind her and pulled her against his chest. "Seen too much shit." He murmured against the top of her head. "Comes back sometimes."

He felt her starting to relax.

"You weren't you." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I mean you were, but-" She started to tremble.

"Animal takes over sometimes. Sometimes I fucking like it. Makes things easier." Her fear was gone now, replaced by confusion. She turned and rested against his chest, her arms around his waist. Her fingers massaged the knots in his lower back. One clawed finger moved her hair out of her face, curious if she would flinch. She didn't. "We gonna sit on the floor all fuckin' night?"

She smiled a little. "Not if you don't want to."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly had started to get a new set of sheets, but he stopped her. "Don't bother. I need to air the place out before I can sleep in here again." He handed her the comforter. "Go downstairs."

"What about you?" Kelly took a hesitant step toward the door.

He pointed to the door and growled. "Go!"

Much as she wanted to know more, she knew that it wasn't wise to press him on the best of days. Kelly hesitated a moment, then went down to the den with the armload of silky king-sized-and-then-some comforter.

The den was the least formal room in the downstairs of the house. It was the room where he spent almost all of his time. Kelly turned on one small lamp near the fireplace and started a fire. The furnace would take too long to heat the place up and it never really got the damp chill out of the air like a fire did. She wasn't nearly as good at it as he was, but she managed. At least it had occupied her mind for a few minutes. She curled up in the large leather chair, the scent of his shirt as comforting as the warmth.

The first time he'd had a nightmare it hadn't been nearly as bad as this one, but her first thought had been to try and offer him some kind of comfort. That had only made him angrier, as if accepting comfort made him weaker. The next time, she hadn't said anything. She'd just retreated to the edge of the bed until he pulled her close again.

Tonight was like nothing she'd ever seen before though. She'd tried to wake him once in the very beginning, but that seemed to make it worse. Kelly wasn't proud of the fact that she'd just left him in that state, but every survival instinct in her had been screaming at her to run. Logically she knew she should have been terrified to be anywhere near him again. He could have sliced her up as easily as he'd sliced up the sheets before he came back to himself again.

In that first moment when he looked at her cowering in the corner, he looked more afraid of losing her than he was of whatever he was dreaming about. It was only a flash in his inscrutable eyes. At first, she thought she'd imagined it, but his posture was different too. For the first time he seemed almost cautious. That hadn't lasted either, but at least she knew she wasn't imagining it. She didn't have it within herself to push him away after that.

Kelly looked over at the hunter green comforter. It was luxurious and seemed big enough to cover half a football field, but the fabric was cold. She plucked a knitted throw off of the back of the sofa and wrapped up in it. She looked over at the grandfather clock. In the dim light, it took a minute for her eyes to decipher the time. It was nearly three-thirty. She had no idea when she'd gone looking for a hiding spot, but it felt like ages ago now. She shifted a little so that her head rested against the arm of the chair, her eyes closed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed leaned forward, his hands braced on tiled wall in the shower. The hot spray hit the back of his neck and his tense shoulders. He let the white noise of the running water block out anything else for the moment.

Fucking frail.

She should have stayed scared. She should have begged for her fucking life. Seeing her reduced to a whimpering, sobbing pile of disgusting weakness would have made it easy to kill her. Course she didn't fucking do_ that_. Would have been easy if she'd looked at him with pity. He didn't need her pity or anyone else's. That wasn't there either, but it would be. She'd look at him like some poor, weak creature that needed to be taken care of and as soon as she did, she'd be disposable, like all the others.

He didn't need her. He could cook his own damn food and keep his own fucking house in order. He'd been doing it for a century, he be doing it after she...he didn't fucking need her. Not for that. He didn't need her for sex either. He could fuck anybody he wanted any time he wanted.

It wasn't just the way she wrapped her legs around him, or the way she knew rare meant _rare_. Just what it was, he couldn't say. He'd never learned words for that kind of emotional shit and he was too fucking old to start expanding his vocabulary.

He stood up and finished washing the stink of fear from his skin. It had to be done. Should have been done weeks ago. He'd lost everybody else, and gone on. He'd go on after she was just a corpse too. Now he just needed to figure out why he had to work so hard to convince himself. She'd end up pitying him. She'd ask questions he didn't want to answer. She'd tell him he had to talk about it and when he wouldn't she'd keep pressing him. That would make it easier.

He turned off the water and got out of the shower. He wouldn't have to search for her. When he's first decided on this house, he was sure she'd prefer the more formal rooms. After wandering through all of them on the first day she gravitated toward the book-lined den. He was sure he'd find her in there. He pulled on a pair of shorts, opened all the windows in the large room, then went downstairs.

He'd snap her neck. It was quick and he had no interest in causing her pain. If he was careful she wouldn't know what hit her. The idea gave him a hollow, aching feeling. The closer he got to the door the stronger the delicate aroma of vanilla sugar got. He looked at the soft glow that leaked out from under the door. Should have left her in the fucking woods to start with.

He opened the door. The comforter was neatly folded at the end of the sofa. She'd started a fire, or tried to. She never got it arranged right and it burned itself out too quick. Before he left he'd have to show her – _FUCK!_ He had to get her out of his head.

He walked over to the chair she was curled up in. She wasn't deeply asleep, and she was still wearing his shirt. The one she said brought out the color of his eyes, whatever the fuck that meant. He moved the hair out of her face, and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him. Not a pitying smile, just the smile she always wore when she was happy to see him. He admitted to himself that he wasn't going to do it. He didn't want to. Not now. There was still plenty of time for her to piss him off. When she did, he'd do it then.

"Think I told you to bring that down here to keep your hands occupied?" He looked over at the comforter.

"It was cold in here and that fabric is kind of cold too." She sat up and watched while he unfolded it, covering the sofa. She waited while he stretched out, then moved closer. He looked at the shirt. "Take that off."

She blushed and tuned her back to him while her fingers worked the buttons. Even in the dim light, one healing bite and several other scratches were visible. Some were accidental, others weren't. All of them were marks of ownership. She draped the shirt over the back of the chair she'd been sleeping in. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her so that she was between his body and the back of the sofa. He felt her shiver when he folded the comforter over both of them.

He waited for the questions. She had to ask. She was too fucking curious about everything not to. Finally he couldn't stand it anymore. "Well?"

She looked up at him as if he'd spoken in another language. "Well what?"

"You ain't even gonna ask?"

"About earlier?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, about the price of fucking tea in China."

Her eyes held his. "If you want to tell me I'll listen for as long as you want me to, but I'm not ever going to ask. What you said in the closet is enough."

Fucking frail. His arm tightened around her, his hand pressing her head down to his shoulder. "What made you decide to leave?"

"I don't know really." Her voice was quiet, her body molded to his. "It just seemed like...like I had to."

"I ever do that again, you get the fuck out of that room and you stay out until you're damn sure I'm awake. You understand me?"

He felt her nod against his shoulder. Her arm tightened around his waist.

His claws drifted lightly over the swell of her hip. "I'm going out hunting as soon as you fall asleep." Just because he wasn't going to kill her didn't mean he wasn't going to kill _anything_.

"I'll make you something to eat." She started to get up. He let his claws bite into her skin just enough to hold her in place.

"Don't need anything."

Her lips brushed over his nipple, sending tingling excitement radiating out from that point of contact. "'Kay." One delicate fingertip traced around his navel, continuing what her mouth had started.

He could fuck anyone any time he wanted, but she was the only one who would touch him like this. His back arched and a deep purr rumbled from his chest.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"You know what that does to me, frail." His claws bit a little deeper into her soft skin.

Kelly moaned softly. "This?" Her fingertips tickled the line of hair descending from his navel. This should have been the last thing on her mind. Maybe the uncertainty and fear made her need this even more. Her fingertips moved over the firm swelling in his shorts.

"Gettin' bold, aren't you little girl?" There was a growl in his voice, but his body was reacting to her hesitant touches.

"Seems like you're enjoying it." Her mouth teased along his collarbone. Her fingers trembled a little as they traced the flared head through the thin cotton.

His claws traced up her back, leaving burning trails as they scratched her skin. Finally, his hand dug into her hair. He tugged sharply, Kelly whimpered and looked up at him. He was grinning. "You wouldn't want to forget who's in charge here, frail." He twisted her head, she turned, trying to ease the pressure on her hair. He shifted out of the way.

"I haven't-" She swallowed a whimper. He kept twisting, forcing her onto her back, her neck stretched.

"Probably not. I'm gonna make damn sure of that." He pinched her left nipple hard enough to make her whimper. "Such a pretty little sound. Make it again." He bit down on her right nipple with his blunt teeth. Kelly's back arched, her hands gripping his shoulders. Tears came to her eyes, and she whimpered again. His tongue gently stroked over the firm bud.

"Not bad." His claws moved over her tummy. A tremor traveled through her. His teeth closed on her left nipple. Kelly arched and cried out. He growled appreciatively and soothed her nipple with his lips. "Like that even more, frail. Show me the rest of what's mine."

For a moment, his words were lost in a haze of pleasure, ache and desire. "What-"

His tongue flickered over her nipple, claws carefully grazed her thighs, . "You really want me to repeat myself?"

The meaning of his statement finally broke through. Kelly blushed deeply and opened her legs. Her face was mostly hidden, but she could feel him looking at her. She jumped when he opened her even wider.

His low chuckle sent a little tremor down her spine. "Nervous, frail?"

His tongue flickered over her moist folds. The words she was forming dissolved into a deep moan.

"'Cause you don't taste nervous." His tongue flickered over her delicate inner lips. "You taste like you want me to fuck you."

He sucked at the nub of her pleasure, pushing her right up to the edge of orgasm, but not letting her fall. "Oh God, Victor please-"

"Please? Please what?" He went back to teasing her.

Kelly whimpered, near tears. "Please let me finish."

"Maybe."

She groaned in frustration. He held her in place and continued his slow, torturous assault on her most intimate places. Each time his mouth moved, she was sure that he would push her just far enough, but he never did. The need for release grew to a physical ache. She was certain that he'd keep her that way forever.

Without warning, his mouth was gone. His body moved over hers. It always hurt when he entered her quickly, but with her whole body so tense to begin with, it was unbearable and wonderful at the same time. Screaming release collided with wrenching pain. The landscape of pleasure changed to something alien and frighteningly wonderful. How long she spent lost there, Kelly didn't know or care. It was finally starting to slip away when his roar of release brought her back to the present.

He moved onto his back, letting her lay on his chest. His hand was still tangled in her hair.

*~*~*~*~*~*

He brought the last of the dishes over to the sink. "When you finish, bring me another beer."

"Okay." She smiled and took the serving platter from his hands. "Want anything else?"

"Nah." It had been nearly a week since the dream. He'd finally started sleeping more than a couple of hours at a time. When he was tired, his temper was even shorter than usual. She wore a new bruise on her forearm in the shape of his fingers. The sight of it bothered him more than it bothered her, so she kept her sleeves pulled down.

It took only a few minutes to stack the dishwasher and finish up the last of the pans. She opened a beer for him and got a cup of hot tea for herself. She brought them both into the den. He grunted in acknowledgment and kept flipping through channels. She sat down and picked the sock she'd been knitting out of the basket by her feet, her attention split between her knitting and fleeting images on the screen. She could easily have missed the image of a balding, middle-aged man.

"Wait! Go back!"

He growled. "What was that, frail?"

She looked over at him. "Please! I think that was Stan."

"What the hell would be be doing on television? Tell me when." He moved back through the channels.

"Stop."

"_-Wilton, newly-named director of the Church of Humanity's national youth outreach programs." _The blond reporter's face was completely impassive. She might have been talking about the latest movies. Kelly's stomach started to turn. _"We talked about your vision for the future earlier in the program, now I'd like to ask a question that might be on the minds of many of our viewers. How can you inspire the youth of America to embrace their humanity an reject anything less, if you can't keep your own family intact?"_

"_You're referring to the recent disappearance of my adopted daughter, Kelly."_

"_I am."_

Kelly watched Stan arrange his plump features into an image of thoughtfulness. She was familiar with that look. He wore it when he wanted her to think he was considering something when he had already made up his mind. The waiting usually seemed worse than what followed.

"_My daughter is a troubled young woman, I can't deny that."_

"_So you've severed ties with her?"_

He shook his head vehemently. The camera moved in closer. _"Absolutely not. As I said earlier, one of my goals is to strengthen the human family, and there is nothing in this world more important to me than my own family. It doesn't matter what she's done in the past, I will find her and I will bring her back into the fold."_

"_The parable of the Good Shepherd?"_

He smiled and nodded. There wasn't much that Stan liked better than having someone to lead around. _"And I can only imagine how terrified that lost lamb was. I'm sure that my Kelly is just as frightened."_

"_This is a national broadcast. Is there anything you'd like to say to her, if she's watching?"_

"_That her mother and I love her, and she can rest assured that wherever she is I'll find her. I'm sure she knows coming home will be best for everyone."_

"_You've set up a toll-free number for information leading to the return of your daughter, haven't you?"_

"_Yes, it's-"_

"_We'll put it on the screen along with a photo as we go to commercial." _The camera pulled back. _"When Humanity In Focus returns, Mr. Wilton will give us more specifics about his plan."_

A photo of an emaciated girl appeared. Her dark, lank hair was held back in a ponytail. She wasn't looking at the camera, but she was trying to force a smile. It took Kelly a moment to realize that she was looking at a picture of herself. This time she couldn't suppress the wave of nausea. She dropped her knitting and ran into the tiny downstairs bathroom. Vaguely, she was aware that Victor was following. She slammed the door behind herself anyway.

*~*~*~*~*~*

_FUCK! _He was going to kill that son of a bitch. Him and everyone else associated with him. Everyone who even _thought_ of putting his frail through this kind of hell.

He stood there, listening to her retch. He could smell the stink of puke and fear through the closed door. His hand was on the knob, his head rested against the door frame. He fought to control his anger. She didn't need it, she had her own. He could tell that much by watching her face. It was more tightly controlled than his, but he would have bet it was every bit as intense. She wouldn't be able to act on it like he could. She didn't have the experience or the skill. He did, and he couldn't think of a job he wanted to do more.

He listened for a moment more, then went upstairs. He'd seen enough people puke.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly sat with her back against the wall, her knees drawn up. Her empty stomach still churned, but there was nothing else to come up. Stan would never stop. She'd known it before, now she had proof. She tried to grab onto at least one of her racing thoughts, and found all of them too elusive. She guessed it was shock. The label made as much sense as any.

The sound of the door opening filtered through. She turned her head.

"You sit on the floor too fuckin' much." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet and then out into the hall.

"Victor-"

"What? You smell like puke."

Kelly focused and heard water running in the large tub upstairs. He was probably right. She sighed and let him lead her upstairs. He put her in the bathroom and closed the door. The steaming water did look good to her. She turned off the faucets first, then got undressed and brushed her teeth. She stepped into the hot water and allowed it to envelop her. Just as she was getting settled in the water, the jets came on. She glanced up at the door, he was already undressed. She moved forward when he stepped in. She settled back against his chest.

His arms rested along the edge of the tub. Kelly felt surrounded by him. That helped ease her tension.

"Did I really look like that? When you first found me I mean?" It wasn't the biggest issue on her mind, but it was the only one she had words for at that moment.

"Fuck no. You looked worse."

Kelly looked over her shoulder. His eyes were closed, his face perfectly serious. Her short laugh sounded strange. "Why did you bother?"

He shrugged. "Cat in me has curiosity issues. You would've rather I left you there?"

She sighed and closed her eyes again. "The first night I was so scared I didn't know what to think. After that, I never thought about it again."

"I don't scare you anymore?" She could hear the little smile in his voice.

She smiled a little. "I didn't say that. It's different though, I can't describe how, but it is." She relaxed into him.

"You don't look like that anymore. You're still too damn skinny, but you've got a little flesh on you now. Few more months, you'll have even more. I didn't think Stan was anywhere near a national level anything."

"He wasn't. The only thing I can think of is that he knew the right things about the right people, and threatened to share that information."

He snorted. "Doesn't look that smart."

"That's why people tell him things. He gives the impression of being so caring and concerned. Everyone opens up eventually, and when they do-"

"He's got something to bargain with."

She nodded. "I have to go back."

"Are you fucking insane?"

"Not to _stay_. I just need to get Cody out of there. The way Stan said it would be better for everyone-"

He groaned. "And just how do you plan to do that?"

She sighed. "I don't know. I don't even know what to do after. I want to take care of him, but I can't be his mother. He believes all the CoH crap, I don't know how to change his thinking other than to tell him to stop being an idiot and that isn't going to work."

"You got relatives you trust?"

"My father's parents. I lost contact with them soon after my mother married Stan, though." Kelly turned, so that she was resting more on her hip.

"They still in the same place?"

"I don't know. I tried calling them once last year, but the number had been disconnected. Stan came in before I could try again."

"You didn't try again when I was away?" He sounded surprised.

She shrugged. "I was afraid to upset you by using the phone, then you took it back, so-"

"You'll find 'em. After I get back, I'll see about helping you get the kid to wherever they are." He sounded profoundly annoyed by the whole idea.

"If you could-"

"And don't start all that sentimental shit."


	9. Little Things You Hide

**Hi Everyone!**

**The response to this story continues to overwhelm me in a wonderful way. Thank you for all your wonderful comments, thank you for all the story alerts, and thank you for taking time to read and enjoy this story. It makes me wish that I could update more quickly, but I don't want the overall quality of the story to suffer.**

**So.....I hope you enjoy this chapter and will continue to be patient with me. This one should give you a little fodder for speculation anyway...*innocent look*. And if anyone was wondering – and even if you weren't – yes, I'm a knitter.**

**As usual, I don't own anything from the X-Men universe and I make no money from it. I just get to daydream alot. :)  
**

**Enjoy!**

**psyche b**

9. Little Things You Hide

It had taken the frail less than eighteen hours to go from terrified to pissed off. He'd expected the shift would happen, he just hadn't expected that it would happen so fucking fast. At breakfast, he could tell that her posture was different. She hadn't said a word about the night before either. In fact, she didn't say a damn thing that was any different from any other morning. It was fucking weird.

He was supposed to be the one who shook things off. Frails were supposed to cry and cower and do all the shit she had done last night. Maybe she got it out of her system, but he doubted that. It wasn't like he'd shredded some article of clothing she liked, she saw very clearly that her life was threatened. Now she was asking him how he wanted his fucking eggs. There was definitely something going on in that head of hers. So he waited, smelling her anxiety growing with each passing minute.

It took until she was cleaning up the breakfast dishes for her to say it. "Are you going into town tonight?"

That wasn't what he was expecting. It put him on edge immediately. "Why?"

She fussed over the dishes, keeping her back to him. "I want to go with you."

Where the fuck was she headed with this? "I ain't taking you into the bar I go to, so you can just get that out of your head." Being with the frail had gotten more comfortable, but that didn't mean he was going to give up all of his other bitter comforts.

She took a deep breath. He watched the force make her shoulders rise and fall. "I don't want to go to the bar with you. I want to go into town with you. There's a knitting group that meets at the yarn store. I thought it would be fun to join them."

He stared at her back while what she just said sunk in. "Well you've just got great fucking timing haven't you? Last night you were ready to crawl under a rock. Today you want to go running around town alone?"

She turned and looked at him. "You're half right." The note of sarcasm in her voice came through clearly, and it pissed him off.

He was across the spacious room more quickly than she could react. He turned her back to him and in the process twisted her arm up behind her back. The smell of her tears and the pained squeak filled the room. He felt her knees start to buckle, so he wrapped his arm around her waist. He might just break her fucking arm, it'd be a good lesson to her. He wasn't going to let her do it before he was ready. "You were saying, frail?" He growled close to her ear.

She trembled. "Victor please-"

"Please? Now you remember your fuckin' manners?" He pushed just a centimeter further. Her cry was sharper this time.

She took a several quick, shallow breaths. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded." She spoke through clenched teeth.

He'd expected apologies and reassurances that she wouldn't do it again to come spilling out in a terrified jangle of noise, she was still fighting to keep herself in control. It set her apart from so many others he'd put in this position. "Then you better tell me how you meant it. Real fucking clear. Real fucking quick. Got it?"

"Yes." Her voice quivered.

The potent mixture of pained sounds and frightened smells was as close to intoxication as he could get, and he was enjoying every delicious, heady second. "Start talking, and if you piss me off again, I ain't gonna hesitate."

She took a trembling breath. "You're right, the timing is bad. But if I hide that means Stan gets what he wants in a way. I've fought so hard to never give in to what he wants, I don't want to start now that I'm not even under his roof anymore." She whimpered again. "Victor please, let go."

He tightened his grip on her wrist, but he didn't push her arm any further. "So you thought you could get away with being a smart ass to me?" His voice was quieter.

"I'm sorry." She went limp against him. "That's not how I meant it. I just...I was nervous and wasn't thinking of how it sounded. Please, let go. I can't feel my fingers."

He moved her arm down carefully, his arm still around her waist. He waited until she seemed stable on her feet again. "Finish up."

He walked away, a half smile touching his lips as soon as his back was turned. Fucking frail had brass ones, he had to give her that.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It took her longer than usual. The strain he'd placed on her arm made it weak and achy. Her hand trembled, and pain shot through her overstressed shoulder. She took more time with anything breakable. She didn't want to give him another reason to be angry with her.

As soon as it was out of her mouth she'd known it was the wrong thing to say, but she'd been too wrapped up in working up her nerve to ask to go into town. The idea of being around other people at all made her nervous because she'd been so isolated for so long. The idea that anyone might have seen that broadcast only added to that discomfort. While it was true that the Wednesday night group at The Village Knitiot wasn't exactly ordinary, they were still all strangers. That alone made them dangerous. She looked a lot different, but probably not so different that an observant person wouldn't notice the similarities. Being around other people without Victor was a completely terrifying. Scared as she was, she knew hiding wasn't the answer.

Kelly lingered in the kitchen, straightening things and brushing at imaginary crumbs. She knew that if it wasn't over, he would have finished it then and there. That didn't mean she felt entirely comfortable about approaching him after she'd upset him. In such a big house, there had to be something else that needed rearranging or polishing. She should be able to keep herself busy until at least lunchtime. After that, she would figure something else out if she needed to.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Lawton, Maine had tried to develop a tourist trade, but the location was never right for it and neither was the attitude of most of the locals. It had never caught on, but there were vestiges of the attempt still left in town. The Olde Towne Tavern was one of those places. Creed knew that when it was first built it had probably been designed with that stupid rustic distressed look that people seemed to love. Over the years, the illusion of distress had settled into a dilapidated reality. Not someplace he'd bring the frail, but she was down the street at her knitting group at the yarn shop.

He hadn't liked the idea at first, and he sure as hell hadn't like her approach but he'd appreciated the reasoning behind it. He knew the shop owner was a mutant, though not a terribly powerful one. Her Wednesday group was for mutants and those with mutant mates or children. It made him feel a little better about leaving the frail there alone.

Better. Not comfortable. That first week he'd lingered outside the building, listening, watching exists. Looking for any sign that she was in danger. Sure she was only a frail, but she was _his_ and no one took something of his without a fight. Surprisingly, she'd seemed to be less comfortable than he was. He'd been certain she wouldn't want to go again, but the second week she'd been waiting by the door with her bag. Goddamn determined little thing.

She wasn't as apprehensive as she'd been that first week, and this time he had business to take care of. As soon as she was inside, he'd gotten himself a bottle of good whiskey and a glass at the bar, then took over a dim booth in the back of the Tavern. He poured himself a drink and checked his watch. He fucking hated waiting.

In the beginning, he'd planned to leave her alone while he was gone. The house was built on a promontory. The fence cut it off from the rest of the surrounding area. The array of motion sensors and alarms on the edge of the cliff and on the fence itself were enough to keep most things out. When he was there alone, someone would have to be pretty fucking stupid to try and get in anyway. He'd figured that and the security features on the house itself would be enough to keep her safe.

Then Stan had to go fuck up everything. If someone was determined, she'd be an easy target, no matter what kind of fence he kept her behind. That meant he had trust someone else to keep her safe while he was gone. The idea alone pissed him off, but he wasn't about to let asshole Stan have the upper hand.

He'd thought about having someone simply watch, without having any contact with her. Knowing her, that would last all of three days - if that - then she'd call him in a panic and he'd have to figure out something else from a distance. Leaving her alone with someone else was the option he liked least, but it was probably the most rational under the circumstances.

Ironically, the first person he'd thought of was Jimmy. That was just plain stupid and he knew it. The only reason he'd thought of the runt at all was because she was just the kind who brought out that pain in the ass noble side of his. He'd take one look at the frail and see the bruises and scratches, that too-small frame and those striking eyes and completely miss the steel and fearlessness that she managed to carefully hide from damn near everyone. Jimmy'd go into 'rescue' mode as soon as he saw her, keeping her away from anyone and anything he perceived to be a threat. That also meant that he'd try and get her away from his 'monster' of a brother. Even if he were speaking terms with the runt, he would have rejected the idea for that reason alone.

Creed checked his watch, and poured himself another drink. The only advantage of having the frail so close was that if this little meeting went bad, he could grab her and be heading out of town in five minutes or less. Fucking frail. She was one big complication wrapped up in soft skin, sweet scents and delicate touches. He drained the glass in one, burning swallow.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly sat in one of the mismatched armchairs at the back of The Village Knitiot. She kept her eyes on the sock she was working on and let the conversation and laughter flow around her. The first week, she'd been suspicious of the others in the group. She hadn't wanted to be, but suspicion had become so much a part of the fabric of her daily life that it was reflexive. This week, she just didn't know what to say. She wasn't a part of the world in the same way these women were. Maybe in a few more months she would, and she might be better off to stay away from groups until then.

"Kelly?"

She lifted her head to see the six women staring at her. She managed an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, I guess I was a million miles away."

The older members of the group went back to their conversation. Sarah, the one other knitter under thirty, smiled a little. "It's okay, it looked like you were counting. I just asked if you got that yarn here."

The sock weight hand-painted merino wool blend was something she never would have been able to afford before. The blend of blues, purples and pinks had caught her eye immediately. She'd reached out, hesitant to touch it. Victor had stood back and watched her return to that shelf three times before he'd gotten tired of watching her indecision. He'd took two of the hanks and tossed them in her shopping basket.

"I don't think I need-"

"You got it. Get creative." He'd said, a little twitch of a smile on his lips. If she hadn't gotten used to his tiny flickers of expression, she would have missed it.

Kelly used the memory he help her manage a more genuine smile. "Yeah, a couple of weeks ago, maybe."

"I must have totally missed it the other day. Can you show me where you got it?"

Kelly recognized a ploy when she heard one. "Sure, it was just over with the rest of the sock yarn." She got up, and walked with Sarah to the other end of the store, avoiding the large front window as much as she could. "I don't see that particular color, but there are some with greens."

Sarah was looking at her, not the yarn. Kelly slid one hand into her sweater pocket, feeling the small scissors she kept with her knitting.

"You were CoH, weren't you." Her voice was soft.

Kelly took a step back. She couldn't keep the fear from registering on her face.

"No, I-"

"So was I." Sarah backed away and sat on one of a pair of wooden chair that was being used to display sweaters.

"You were?" Either Sarah was a very good liar, or she was telling the truth.

"From the time I was six until I ran away at seventeen." The pain around Sarah's eyes broke down the last doubts that Kelly had.

"How did you know I was?" Kelly perched on the edge of the other chair.

Sarah shrugged a little. "You reminded me of myself when I first got out. Like you've been on the outside for so long, you don't know how to get back in."

Kelly tried an insincere smile. "I was hoping people would just think I was shy."

"They do." She stopped and thought about that. "Well, I guess they do. Raylene doesn't really notice too much about anyone unless the person in question is male. I bet she knows every detail of the guy who came in here with you."

Kelly blushed. "Victor does tend to make an impression."

"I'll say." Sarah grinned. "Anyway, Mavis thinks that because you're new in town you must be a land developer-"

"A land developer?" Kelly almost laughed.

Sarah giggled a little and waved her hand dismissively. "She's obsessed, no one seems to know why. Don't take it personally. Janet and Ideal are the Grandma Mafia. Each one is so into proving to the other that her grandkids are the best, you could have walked in here naked and spinning fire batons and they would have each had stories about their grandkids doing the same thing. Karla's generally quiet, but even if she wasn't I think she'd just want to keep all of her customers coming back."

This time, Kelly did laugh. "Meaning I look more normal than I think I do."

"Exactly."

"You two find that yarn yet?" Someone called.

"Sure did Mavis." Sarah called back. She got up and picked up some of the same yarn in green.

"Then what're you doing over there?"

"Conspiring." Sarah answered.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed knew something was wrong, even before he opened his eyes. Something was missing. He sat up quickly, his mind instantly awake and his senses attuned to any tiny shift in the atmosphere, any indication of gathering threat. All he found was that he was alone in bed in the silent, expansive room.

The frail should have been there. He sniffed the air, taking in the scent of sex from earlier, the scent of fresh tears on her pillow, and the fresh, sharp stink of her fear. Probably had another fucking dream. For awhile, she hadn't had any, or at least none that he knew about. As it got closer to him leaving, he'd noticed the dreams had started up again. Usually, she went into the bathroom to calm herself down, but he couldn't see any light leaking out from under the door.

What the fuck? He laid down again. She wouldn't want him stumbling into whatever she was going through. He turned on his side and hit the wide pillow with his fist, plumping it.

Besides, the only thing he knew about nightmares was how to fucking cause them. He'd never been able to get a handle on his own, there was no way in hell he was going to be able to help her get a handle on hers. She'd probably resent the offer anyway.

He turned the other way and flipped the pillow over, searching for a cooler spot.

She was so goddamn secretive sometimes. Like he didn't already have a pretty good idea of hell Stan put her through. Even though she tried to hide it, she still flinched when he walked into the kitchen and saw her eating something. Cold as it had gotten, there were days he'd find her sitting out by the cliffside, shivering and staring at the unsettled gray ocean. She'd always have some excuse, but he could see the ghosts moving behind her eyes.

He switched sides of the bed and threw off the blankets. He'd been sleeping as well as he could sleep until she'd gotten up. Fucking frail.

She'd have to figure it out for herself. He wasn't anybody's fucking savior. He'd just happened upon a half-frozen opportunity and he took it. Didn't mean it was up to him to fix everything that was wrong with her. Besides, no one could say he hadn't been careful with her. She was still walking, still able to go out in public without drawing attention and when she did go out she seemed glad to get back again. Almost like she fucking _liked_ him or something.

He sat up again. The scent of vanilla sugar was teasing him from her pillow. He was going to get her ass back in bed where it belonged if he had to drag her by her hair.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly's fingers trembled a little as she peeled the fifth apple. It wasn't from the chill of the house, the sweats she was wearing cut that to a tolerable level. All the lights in the large kitchen were on, giving the space the feel of an operating room. It was what she needed at the moment.

She'd had the dream just about every night, though some nights it wasn't as bad. It was always the same. Somehow she'd lose her footing on the landscape of her dreams and end up falling downward into the tiny, dark space she'd spent so much time in. Stan called it the meditation room, but she tended to think of it as Hell.

Logically, she knew the tiny, basement room had probably been used for some kind of storage. The cement closet wasn't equipped for a washer and dryer, there were no shelves for storing preserves or other kinds of food. One would hardly need a door and a lock on a pantry anyway. She could remember Stan bringing them all down on the day they moved in. He'd gone on about being closer to God meant shutting out all distractions and whole bunch of other stuff she knew was bullshit. The room was a solitary confinement cell in a lovely house on a picturesque suburban street.

She had always been terrified of the dark, so for weeks she tried to do everything he said, no matter how difficult it was. Even then she knew that couldn't last. The first time he'd taken her down there was when she'd broken a plate. It wasn't intentional, but she'd gotten the impression that Stan had just been waiting for any excuse. He'd handed her a single thin blanket to wrap up in and a bucket to use if she had to go to the bathroom and he'd left her alone in the dark.

She'd beat her hands on the locked door until they were raw. She'd screamed until her throat hurt. Then she'd learned how to shut down. She knew someone had brought her water and a little food, but until Stan let her out she never had any idea how long she was down there. She had no clock, no window to look out of, no way to tell if an hour had passed or a day. That first time, she spent four days 'meditating' on her sins.

As time went on, her stays in the cell grew longer. She began to uncover its secrets, like the duct that let her hear what was going on in Stan's den. That kept her mind focused and gave her some sense of time. When she stopped hearing him, she would repeat the last home-school lessons her mother had taught her. She would make up stories and poems, anything to keep her mind focused on something. The desperate grab at sanity had worked, but it didn't keep the dreams away.

Most nights when she woke up, Victor's presence was enough to remind her that she was safe. Tonight, even after she awoke the dream had clutched at her, trying to drag her back into the past.

She finished peeling the last apple and started searching through the drawer for a corer.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

The voice from the doorway startled Kelly and she dropped the set of measuring spoons in her hand. They clattered to the hardwood floor.

"I..." she searched for words. "I was making applesauce. There were some apples that were going to turn-"

"At two-thirty in the goddamn morning?" He sounded annoyed and confused.

She shrugged a little and pushed at the sleeves of her sweatshirt, unable to meet his eyes. "I couldn't sleep, so-"

He rolled his eyes. "You're a bad liar, frail."

She felt herself getting flustered. "I was sleeping, but I woke up. I had to do something with the apples-"

He dumped all of them into the trash. "There. I did something with 'em. You wanna try telling me the truth now?"

Kelly trembled a little, her eyes on the empty sink. She rubbed her arms with her hands, trying to hide the goosebumps that were forming there. "It was nothing, just a dream."

"Bullshit. If it was just a dream you would still be in bed and I wouldn't be down here-"

"You want to hear that he won?" She turned to face him, her anger pounding in her ears, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. "Fine. Tonight Stan wins! You can go tell the whole damn world or you can go back to bed." She pushed past him and got her boots out of the hall closet.

"Where are you-"

"For a walk." She pulled viciously at the laces.

"Like hell you are!" He picked her up and slammed her back against the wall hard enough to make her head spin. Her feet dangled inches above the floor, his fingers dug painfully into her upper arms. For a few eternal seconds, she was sure that he was going to make good on all of his threats. "Told you before, running away ain't smart."

Kelly looked away. She started to tremble a little.

"What was the longest?" There was an angry growl in his voice, but his grip had loosened a little.

"I don't know what-"

"He kept you in the fuckin' dark. He made sure you got a little bit of shitty food, and a little water. Just enough to keep you alive, nothing more and not on any kind of schedule so you wouldn't have a sense of time. Sleep was an escape, but when you woke up you didn't know whether or not you were alive or dead."

Kelly went limp in his grasp. He lowered her to her feet.

"You gonna tell me or you need me to go on?"

Kelly couldn't look at him, her voice came out in a barely audible whisper. "Three months, one week, four days, ten hours and thirteen minutes."

Silence bloomed between them, lingering for what seemed like ages. She could feel the trembling starting and she crossed her arms over her chest, grabbing the newly-bruised places on her arms. The flash of pain would keep her focused. He bumped his head against hers, Kelly arched into him.

"I hate that I let him make me so...weak." Her voice cracked with emotion.

"Seen men a whole lot bigger than you go batshit crazy after a week of that. Didn't make you weak. Made you a fucking pain in the ass when I gotta go chasing after you in the middle of the goddamn night, but that's all."

Kelly smiled a little, her forehead resting against his chest. She didn't want to know where he had seen it before, but even through the storm of her emotions she knew there was a lot more to it than he was telling her. One large hand cupped the back of her head awkwardly, as if he wasn't sure what to do next.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I tried not to wake you."

He growled softly. "You think as soon as I leave he's gonna get to you somehow."

She shrugged. "I'll be alone here. I don't know much, but I know that when you're gone I'll be a sitting duck, no matter how many alarms there are."

"You ain't gonna be alone."

She looked up at him. "What?"

"I said I'm leaving, but you ain't gonna be alone." He sounded annoyed.

"Who-"

"You'll meet him when we go to dinner tonight. Course you'll look like ten miles of bad road because you been running around all goddamn night, but that ain't my problem." His hand tightened in her hair. "C'mon. I'm sick of standing around."

He pulled and she followed, her gait made awkward by the one boot she was still wearing.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Three and half fucking months. She should have been talking to imaginary space aliens and finger-painting with her own shit. Instead she was undressed against and curled up against his chest. From the way she felt against him, she was relaxed again too. Not sleeping. He hadn't really expected her to. At least she could not sleep where she damn well belonged.

His fingertips drifted over the smooth skin of her shoulders. He wanted to know how the fuck she'd done it. He guessed it didn't much matter. Just proved that he was right when he figured there was more to her than what he could see. Made all the other emotional bullshit almost tolerable.

She turned her head and nuzzled against the crook of his neck. He nipped her ear gently, and felt her smile against him. His thumb caressed the back of her shoulder. Something bothered him about the texture of her skin. The wounds had healed without any further infection, but he'd cut her deep enough the second time that she should have scars there.

His eyebrows drew together and his fingers drifted over the meat of her shoulder. He felt scabs from healing wounds. He felt her flinch when he pressed on a place that was still painfully bruised, but he felt no patches of raised scar tissue. He'd been careful, but he hadn't been that fucking careful in the beginning.

Without thinking about disturbing her, he sat up and turned the light on. She groaned and moved away from him. He twisted his hand in her hair, turning her onto her stomach. Her anxiety spiked.

"What-"

"You don't have any scars." He turned her head away, trying to get a better look at her neck. Pink, healthy skin covered the places where scar tissue should have formed.

"I know, I haven't since I was a little kid." He could hear the confusion in her voice. "Can you let go of my hair? Please?"

He loosened his grip, but kept her face pressed against the bed. She took a deep breath. "Ever?"

She shrugged a little. "When I was seven I had my appendix out. There's a scar from that, but nothing since. I never really thought about it before either though."

He let go of her hair and turned the light off again. "You never wondered about it?"

She let him get comfortable, then settled against him again. "No. I just figured I had good genes. Does it bother you?"

He gave a little snort. "Just means I gotta work harder to keep you marked. Now shut up and go to sleep."

If she read his curiosity, she was smart enough not to say anything.


	10. Separation Anxiety

**Hi All!**

**WOW, this update came out pretty quick. I hope it doesn't disappoint all the wonderful people who have been reading, reviewing and adding my little story to their alerts. I'm always happy to find people have enjoyed something I wrote, so thank you!**

**Of course there are some naughty bits, some naughty language, some sentimentality and in this chapter a bit of blood and violence.**

**As usual, I own nothing from X-Men and make no money from it...I just get to indulge myself a little. :)**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

**psyche b**

10. Separation Anxiety

Creed woke up for the fifth time at around five-thirty in the morning, judging from the time of year and the quality of light in the room. He gave up trying to go back to sleep. He shifted the pillows and sat up against the headboard, then pulled the frail up so that he was resting against his chest. For a minute she squirmed, then she murmured something and settled again. Her arm draped around his waist, her leg resting on his. It was the first decent sleep she'd gotten all night as far as he could tell.

Every time he'd woken up, she'd been either awake or so lightly asleep his shifting on the bed had awakened her again. She'd never said a word about him leaving, but when he mentioned it tension would settle around her shoulders and worry lines creased her forehead. He halfway wished she would say something. That way he'd know what was going on in her head at least. He'd about given up trying to guess, especially when she got like this.

She squirmed a little and he shifted her again, letting her lay down. He stretched out behind her, his arm resting around her waist. She trembled and moaned, but she didn't wake. Probably pure exhaustion. As far as he could tell she hadn't had a good night's rest since he found her in the kitchen. The tips of his claws absently teased the soft flesh on her tummy. A little tremor of relaxation went through her, and she snuggled back against him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly woke up at a little before ten. Victor wasn't in bed, but his side was still warm. She was torn between snuggling into the warm spot, hoping that he would come back, or getting up. She knew he hadn't slept much, but it was late enough that he'd probably want breakfast. Kelly got up and pulled on the shirt he'd wore the day before.

A low chuckle from behind her made her turn. Victor was grinning from the bathroom door. "Gonna miss the sight of that ass in the morning."

Kelly blushed deeply. "I thought you were already up."

"Halfway there, frail." He stroked his halfway hard shaft, a fang-baring grin on his face.

A familiar, needy ache settled between her legs. She forced herself to stop staring, then to walk toward the door. "It's late." A little smile on her lips. "Don't you want breakfast first?"

"You sayin' no to me?" He advanced slowly, a little smirk on his lips.

"Just saying that I want you to keep up your strength." She held out her arm, her hand flat on his chest.

He took hold of her wrist and and spun her around. Kelly whimpered and twisted her wrist in his grasp, remembering the pain from the last time he gripped her wrist so quickly. "Nervous, frail?"

She leaned back against his chest against her back, some of the tension leaving her body. "A little."

"Good. Maybe next time you'll remember your manners." His free hand came up and started to toy with a pebbled nipple. Her back arched. "Still worried about my lack of strength?"

"It's late. Thought you might be hungry." Kelly moaned softly, her eyes half closed.

"Only thinking of me, huh?" A harder pinch to her throbbing nipple.

She squirmed against him. "God, Victor, please stop teasing me."

He chuckled. "This is your game, frail." He deftly sliced through the threads holding the last three buttons on, then reached down, letting just the tips of his claws tickle the front of her mound. "I just play it better than you do."

"Alright, yes, you do. You win. " She reached back to stroke his thigh, then let her hand move higher.

He chuckled. "Nah. You're just saying that so I'll fuck you. Where's the challenge in that?"

Kelly laughed and squirmed. "Well I can't exactly be very challenging at the moment, now can I?"

"Guess not." He bent down and nipped the side of her neck. "Tell you what, when I let you go, you run. You get to the kitchen before I catch you and I'll make you cum before you cook me breakfast."

"What if you catch me?"

"We'll just have to see, now won't we?" He grinned and shoved her away from him hard enough that she nearly lost her balance.

Kelly wasted no time in getting out the door. The second floor was partially open, she held the shirt closed in front of her and headed for the stairs, expecting to hear him behind her in a couple of strides. When she didn't, she turned in time to see him put one hand on the second floor railing and jump over. The movement was pure fluid grace and for a moment she simply stood there watching. It wasn't until he was falling through the air that she realized he'd just jumped from an unusually high second story and was about to hit the floor. That thought had her frozen to the spot, at least until he actually hit the carpet and hardwood with a resounding thud. His shoulders quivered once and then he was still.

"Victor!" She forced her feet to move and ran over to kneel beside him. She reached out with trembling fingers to touch his shoulder. When she was barely an inch away from his skin, his hand shot out, and he grasped her wrist tightly. "What-?"

He pulled her under him so that she was face down on the carpet. "Looks like I caught a little frail."

"That was not fair! I thought you were hurt!" She struggled, but he had her wrists pinned to either side of her body.

He laughed. "Who the fuck said I had to be fair?" He opened her legs wide with his thighs. Without thinking, Kelly pulled her knees up under herself, her tenderest places presented to him.

She felt him shift behind her. He brought her hands together in the small of her back, then pulled the shirt out of the way. As hard as she tried to relax, Kelly couldn't banish the tension in her body. "Wait, please-"

"Wait? You weren't askin' me to wait a minute ago. Were you?" A knuckle moved roughly through her folds, she shifted forward.

"When you hit the floor like that-"

"Should fuckin' know by now that I always land on my feet." The knuckle pressed into her clenching entrance. "Better relax that frail." He leaned over her, his voice laced with growling threat. "'Cause if you don't I'm gonna tear you open."

She whimpered softly, but the nervous tension increased. The rough side of his knuckle moved down to the protruding bundle of nerve endings. If his touch had been gentle or teasing, it wouldn't have worked as thoroughly as it did to put her back into that needy, achy state. The demanding aggression of it, and the feeling of his claws biting into her wrists had her moaning and arching back against him.

He pressed the broad head of his erection against her hungry entrance. "Should make you wait now."

"No, please, don't stop." She pressed back against him.

He took his hand away and drew his claws over her thigh, just hard enough to make blood well up to the surface. "Say it again, frail."

"Please don't stop, I need to feel you inside me." She pressed back again.

"Why?" Claws grazed her thigh again, crossing the stinging lines with others.

Kelly whimpered. "Because I'm yours."

For what seemed like an eternity, he didn't move at all. When he finally entered her, his passion bordered on brutality. Kelly screamed against the carpet, her muscles clenching around him. Once he was as completely sheathed inside her, he leaned forward over her back. "Get used to it, frail, 'cause I'm gonna fuck you raw today."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly lay against Victor's chest, her legs straddling his hips. The more still she was, the less she hurt, so she tried to stay very still.

True to his word, the hall had been just the beginning. By three-thirty she'd given up trying to get dressed and kept his shirt and a blanket wrapped around herself when she wasn't snuggled up against him. After dinner, they'd migrated back to bed. Well, as soon as she'd finished the dishes, he'd picked her up and carried her back to bed. The thought of resisting hadn't even crossed her mind though.

As the day had gone on she'd gotten progressively more sore, but he'd gotten progressively more careful with her, or at least as careful as he knew how to be. The last time was the only time she'd actually protested. He'd taken his time, but she still ended up in tears halfway through. After, he'd retreated from her to the other side of the bed, almost as if he was preparing himself for rejection. She'd followed, settling against his chest when he offered her the chance. He hadn't said a word about leaving all day, and neither had she, even though every time he moved she was afraid it was to get ready to go.

"You ever gonna fall asleep?" The rough edges of his voice was in sharp contrast to the careful way he stroked her back and thighs.

Kelly glanced over at the clock. It was nearly midnight. She sighed, trying to lock away all the details of this moment. She wasn't sure when she would need to retreat into it. "No. Not until after you go."

His fingers twined in her hair, but he didn't move her head. "I know you wanna ask." His voice was softer, more subdued.

She had been wanting to ask all day, but he'd been in such a good mood, even accepting her affection a few times, that she hadn't wanted to jinx it.

"Ask." His voice rumbled close to her ear.

Kelly opened her mouth a couple of times, unsure how to phrase it. "What you do is illegal, isn't it?"

His hand paused on her thigh, he turned her head so that she was looking up at him. "What the fuck makes you say that?" The guarded tone was back, but there was something else under it. Something she couldn't describe.

"It's just-" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I've tried to picture you doing a thousand things." She looked up into his eyes again. "I know you're brilliant, I know you could do any of them, but none of them fit. You never talk about a specific job, except for the time you spent in the military. Beyond that....beyond that I don't know. Maybe it's a stupid idea." She tried to look away again, but he held her head in place.

"Legal and illegal ain't as simple as you'd think. A lot of the time, what I do is set in motion by people who make the fuckin' laws."

Kelly looked up at him. "I don't-"

"That's all you need to know." His hand tightened in her hair and then relaxed.

Kelly put her head down against his chest again, listening to his heartbeat. Violence came as easily to him as breathing. She knew he'd killed Dawes. Now she certain that he'd killed the detective as well. He didn't really have to tell her any more about what he was going to do while he was gone. Maybe that hadn't been the most important question all along.

"Get some rest, frail." Claws traveled carefully down her spine, then back up again. She arched a little closer.

"No."

He snorted a little. "Fuckin' contrary little thing, aren't you?"

Kelly looked up at him and smiled a little. "You expect any less?"

For a minute she thought she'd sparked his anger, then she saw the corner of his mouth twitch in a little grin. "Too fuckin' much." He twisted his fingers in her hair and brought his mouth down firmly on hers. Kelly moaned into his mouth, her tongue lightly teasing his. He nipped her lip hard enough to draw blood and then moved away from her, another little twitch of a smile on his lips.

"Get your ass up. I gotta get ready."

Kelly moved off of him carefully, clenching her jaw to hide the pain that radiated from her pelvis. She dozed under the covers while he dressed, figuring he would wake her before he actually left. She wasn't far wrong. Something heavy hit the bed next to her.

"Thought you weren't gonna sleep." He was dressed and wearing that long coat again. Just the sight of it sent shivers down her spine. There was a tension around him too.

Kelly held the sheet over her breasts and sat up. "Was just resting my eyes."

"Uh-huh. Open the envelope." He sat down, watching her.

Kelly picked up the thick envelope and opened it, she nearly dropped it again when she saw the amount of money inside. "Victor, I don't need-"

"Bullshit. You'll need groceries at least. If you want to go shopping, go. If you want something this don't cover, tell Conlon. He'll make sure that you get it." Patrick Conlon was her 'babysitter'. He seemed nice enough, and he'd spent most of dinner the other night trying to put her at ease. The idea of being alone with him made her nervous. She trusted Victor and his judgment, and she had to keep reminding herself of that fact.

"Will he get here in the morning?" Kelly set the envelope on the nightstand.

"No, he'll be here before I leave. Now get over here and tell me you remember the fucking rules."

Kelly moved into his lap and repeated what he told her to repeat while nuzzling the side of his neck.

*~*~*~*~*~*

His business attracted two general types; the predators and the protectors. In the beginning, most people tried both because they took what they could get. Hell, he'd even tried both but found taking a good shit to be more interesting than waiting for something to happen to someone he didn't give a flying fuck about. He figured it was a basic matter of temperament. Once a person found their place on one side, they didn't really have much to do with the other. That's one of the reasons finding Patrick Conlon had been so fucking hard.

Aside from the obvious skills to keep the frail safe, he'd wanted someone she could be relatively comfortable with, and someone who didn't know all of his reputation. In the past, if a frail survived until he was sick of her, she became community property. This frail wasn't on that level, and he didn't want to deal with anyone who had the idea in his head that she was available.

Conlon and one other seemed to fit. Conlon was better at the job than the other one. Creed was pacing downstairs. He could hear the frail turn on the shower. The closer he got to walking out and leaving, the more agitated he got. Conlon had the right answers on the phone and at the bar. He had parents in the CoH so he had some idea of what the organization as a whole was capable of. The other night at dinner, Creed's nose told him that Conlon had found the frail attractive but nothing beyond that. He still wasn't thrilled about the arrangement, but he couldn't leave her alone and he sure as fuck couldn't take her with him.

A soft tone sounded, indicating that someone was at the gate. He hit the intercom button. "Talk."

"It's Conlon."

"Enter the code."

After a moment, a green light flashed. He pushed a button and collected his bags. He watched an old brown pick-up approaching slowly. There was only one person visible in the cab.

He opened the door to the broad-shouldered, sandy-haired mutant. Course, anybody who didn't know that Conlon was a mutant wouldn't have guessed without a demonstration.

"Mr. Creed."

"Keys?"

Conlon handed over the keys to the brown truck, he handed Conlon the keys to the Escalade and advanced on the smaller man. Conlon stood his ground, but he could smell the anxiety. "You touch her, or you let anybody else hurt her in any way, I'll make sure you suffer more than anybody else who's ever crossed me and I'll enjoy every fucking minute of it."

Without waiting for a repsonse, Creed turned walked out the door. There was nothing more to say, he'd said it all already. The sooner he got the fuck out of there the sooner he'd finish and get back.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The hot shower, some sleep and some ibuprofen had eased the worst of Kelly's ache, but she lingered in the bedroom for awhile after getting dressed. With Victor gone, there was some spark of life missing from the house, and that made it feel almost unfamiliar. At around nine-thirty the room and bathroom were straightened and she was hungry. She went downstairs and stared into the fridge, trying to decide if she wanted to cook something or if fruit and cereal was good enough.

"Morning."

Kelly jumped, not at all expecting such a cheery greeting. She looked at the man standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Morning cheerfulness turned to a look of concern. "I thought Mr. Creed let you know I'd be here."

Kelly took a deep breath and cursed herself for being so jumpy. "He did. Everything was so quiet though, I kind of forgot." She smiled a little.

"I didn't want to disturb you."

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No, but you don't have to go to any trouble for me."

"It's no trouble. If I cook for you I'll cook for myself. Probably better than living on fruit and cereal for two weeks." Just saying 'two weeks' made her heart constrict.

"Okay. Whatever you're having." He sat down at the table.

"Eggs and bacon?"

"Sounds good." He smiled. It was an expression that set his whole face in motion, but revealed very little.

She got out the food and dishes. "You'll have to tell me how much you want. I'm used to cooking for Victor."

"Two eggs, couple of strips of bacon. He eats a lot more than that?"

Kelly smiled a little. "You saw him the other night at the restaurant."

She prepared the food quietly, always aware of Conlon's presence. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, just different. She set the plates of food on the table and sat down.

"How is this supposed to work?" She asked.

The fork paused halfway to his mouth. "I'm sorry?"

"This. Do you follow me around the house? Do you hide in a corner somewhere? Victor told me I'd be safe and that you'd make sure I got to anywhere I wanted to go, but that's about all."

"Well, that depends on you. If you'd rather not see me until you need something, we can arrange that. If you don't mind me being present on a friendly basis, then I can do that too. No following you from room to room though, I promise." Another wide - but blank – smile.

Kelly knew hardly ever seeing someone she didn't trust was probably not a good idea. She smiled a little. "Make yourself comfortable in the house, it'll be nice not to feel so alone while Victor's gone."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed had been gone six days. It felt like a lot longer in some ways. In others it was working out better than he could have hoped for. He'd never had anything to keep him in one place for very long, so being constantly on the move was no big deal. He'd take jobs as they came and grab a few days R and R when he wanted it. He didn't want to leave the frail alone all the time, but it felt so fucking good to feel his claws slice through flesh and muscle again that the first time the screams and the scent of thick blood mixed with fear hit him, he'd damn near cum in his pants. He fucking loved the rush, but he noticed that there was something hollow about it too.

The first and third had been a clean kills.

The second one'd had some special circumstances. Nothing too fancy, just a general 'scatter the pieces around' kind of special. Made more work for him, but that's why he charged extra for it. Got fucking boring after awhile though.

The fourth was proving to be interesting. Johnny LeSelva, small time hood with ambition who stepped on the wrong toes. Fucking stupid, but he had to admire the kid for trying. Course now the kid was laying in a sticky puddle of his own blood and puke on the cement floor of an abandoned warehouse begging for whatever miserable life he had left.

He squatted and looked at the pulpy face of his captive. "You must've really pissed somebody off, Johnny."

"Please, I don't know-"

"You don't appreciate any of this, do you?" He pushed on the kid's busted nose, dislocating the break in it even further and drawing a fresh flow of blood.

"Please, let me-"

"This don't come cheap you know. So much of my time and effort on a little punk asshole like you is gonna set somebody back some serious cash." His tone was conversational. He grasped Johnny's leg and snapped his knee so far out of joint that he felt the ligaments rip. For a moment there was nothing to shocked silence, then the kid screamed loud enough to practically make the windows rattle.

"Kill me, please. Just kill me!" The tone was desperate, and not wholly unexpected.

"Can't do that Johnny. Wouldn't be fair to whoever you pissed off. Besides, I love my work." His watch beeped and he looked down at the time, a minute later, he felt his cell phone start to vibrate. Every day he checked in with Conlon. Every few days he talked to the frail. Those were easily the toughest conversations. He still had no fucking idea what to say to her. He let the call to voicemail for the moment. "You got somebody waiting at home for you?"

Johnny just cried and shifted around, trying to ease the pain in his ruined knee.

"Don't want to tell me? Well, I don't guess it matters either way. I do and you're gonna be fucking quiet while I make sure what's mine is still alright." He stood up and used his foot to push Johnny over onto his back. Then, he put his foot on the kid's throat and applied just enough pressure to keep him from making a sound. He dialed. It didn't even ring once before she answered.

"Hello?"

He could hear the anxiety in her voice. "You alright, frail?" Johnny grabbed weakly at his ankle, he ignored it. The kid's hands were so broken up they weren't useful anymore anyway.

"I'm okay, I just wasn't expecting to get your voicemail."

He heard her climbing the stairs. "Yeah, I was a little tied up." He grinned down at Johnny. "You doing okay with Conlon?" He heard a door close. She was probably in the bedroom.

"Yes. He took me grocery shopping today. That went fine."

There was something wrong, he could hear it. "Great, you wanna try telling me the truth now?" Johnny's lips were starting to turn blue. He eased the pressure just enough to let the kid get a short breath.

She sighed. "He hasn't done anything wrong, or said anything strange. He was almost as watchful as you are when we were in the store today. I guess I just have a really hard time trusting people. I trust your judgment, though."

That sounded like something she'd repeated to herself over and over. "Anything weird, you call me and keep calling until I fucking pick up. Call you again in a few days."

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "I miss you."

He couldn't keep the little smile off of his face. "Sentimental shit." He ended the call and turned his attention back to Johnny. The kid would last for a few more hours anyway.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed lay awake in an apartment in Columbus, Ohio. He'd showered off Johnny's blood, brains and various other fluids, but he was still too keyed up to sleep. He had one more thing to take care of before he went back to the frail, and that thing was probably the most important one on the agenda.

The kills had brought in money and given him some personal satisfaction, but they didn't do shit toward getting Stan out of the picture. Stan'd be a little more insulated now, but that was nothing he couldn't handle. The brother and unstable mother were a goddamn complication. Mom could go fuck herself for all he cared. He didn't really care about the kid either, but the frail did and she was smart enough to recognize that he wasn't about to live with a mutant-hating brat.

The grandparents were probably the best idea, but letting someone he didn't know or trust get close to his frail wasn't an idea he relished, family or not. He'd been surprised but almost glad when she couldn't find them. At first, he figured she just fucked it up.

Nobody tells you how to search for someone, but she did a damn thorough job for someone who didn't know what the hell they were doing. She'd started in known locations, worked her way out to where they had relatives, then to places they'd vacationed and talked about a lot, then to places people liked to retire to. Perfectly logical, but she found nothing. So did he when he did a basic search. That had struck him a pretty fucking weird. He could find most anybody who wasn't actively trying to hide. It'd taken Link close to three hours to track them down. It went from being weird to fucking suspicious.

Only good thing about it was that he got to check them out first. It was a little after six in the evening and he wasn't gonna fucking sleep until he made the call. He sat up and dialed the number. It rang twice before a man answered.

"Demmer."

"Josef Demmer?" The familiarity struck him again, harder this time.

"You're calling me. Don't you know?" Guarded suspicion. He wouldn't have expected less from a man who took such care hiding.

"This is Victor Creed-"

"Victor Creed?" There was a little chuckle at the other end. "Well ain't that a blast from the past."

The realization hit hard enough to make his fucking teeth rattle. "Joe Demmer."

"The same. This a social call?"

*~*~*~*~*~*

**A/N I know that some of you were hoping that Jimmy would be in this chapter. Don't worry! He will be in it, just not yet.**

**psyche b**


	11. Reunion Behaviors

**Hi Everyone!**

**I know this has been kind of a long time in coming, and all I really have to say about that is there are times I would like to withdraw from real life. Not forever...just for awhile. :) Anyway, I hope this new chapter was worth the wait.**

**A huge THANK YOU to everyone who has been reviewing and those who have put the story on alert. Getting those notifications always makes my day a little brighter!**

**Anyway, nothing too terribly plotty in this chapter, just some hints at past connections. As always, I don't own them...don't make any money...just get to indulge myself and others a little.**

**Enjoy!**

**psyche b**

11. Reunion Behaviors

Creed waved a nearly empty beer bottle at the older of the two waitresses. The young blonde appeared a few minutes later with a full bottle and leaned over, giving him a good look at her implant-enhanced cleavage. For the fourth time since he arrived, he took the beer without giving her a second glance. He figured one of these times she'd get the goddamn message.

Fucking frail. He was so used to her sweet scents and the way she moved with unconscious, sensual grace that anything less than that seemed to be nowhere near good enough to be worth the energy of a fuck, much less a fuck and kill. He had other things on his mind anyway.

"You want something?" he asked the lingering whore.

"Just wondering if you wanted anything...else?" She grinned and pulled the neckline of the shirt open even more.

He didn't bother looking. "Nope."

The whore was more implants than brains. She grabbed a chair from a nearby table and sat down. "Cause I mean it looks like your date didn't show." She reached out to stroke the back of his hand. He waited for her to almost get there. "And I thought that-"

He grasped her hand, one claw digging into her palm just hard enough to draw a blood and terror. The look of shock was priceless. He grinned, showing his fangs. "Don't even fuckin' _think_ about screaming, cunt. 'Cause if you do, I'll tear through your goddamn hand before your fat ass bouncer can figure out what's going on." His tone was perfectly conversational.

She whimpered, her tears sending streaks of eyeliner down her face. "Let go!" Her voice was a deliciously terrified whine in the noisy room.

"I will, and when I do you're going to get up and you're going to walk that filthy pussy of yours back across the room and you're gonna stay there. If you don't, you'll be lucky if someone finds your corpse in a pool of your own fucking blood." He smiled and dug a little deeper into her hand, just to emphasize the point. Then he let her go.

Apparently she still had two functioning brain cells because she got up and trotted across the crowded room, cradling her bleeding hand.

He heard a familiar laugh from behind him. "Still got a way with the ladies, huh Creed?" He didn't need to turn around to see who it was.

Joe fucking Demmer. Blast from the past didn't even begin to cover it.

"Funny, I didn't see any 'lady', just a whore being led around by her cunt." He licked the blood off of his thumb, then took a long pull of his beer.

The last time he'd seen Joe Demmer, he'd been a tall, broad, bull of a man who could stand his ground with any other human and some mutants. Age hadn't done much to change his looks or how he carried himself. "Want a beer?" Creed asked.

He sat down across from Creed. "Sure."

The older waitress brought it. Creed could smell her fear, but she shot him a dirty look anyway. He grinned at her.

"Seems like you haven't changed much." The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth animated his whole face when he smiled. In contrast, his eyes were sharply appraising.

"Why waste time fuckin' around with perfection?"

The smile stayed, but it still didn't fully reach his eyes. "You never had any use for socializing. What's this really about?"

Creed chuckled. "Always were one to get right to the point. We got someone in common." He pulled his phone out of his coat and found the picture of the frail putting away groceries. He would have had to look real close to tell it was the same girl he'd left naked, satisfied and sore in his bed. He held the phone up so Joe could see the image. For a long minute the old man just stared.

The rest of the smile faded. "What did you do to her?" The words practically dripped with rage.

"Nothin'."

"Bullshit! She's looks like she's been through hell!"

He gave a bored little shrug. "That's how she looked a few weeks after I found her." He took the phone back and found another picture. This one had been taken only a week before he left. She was in the mall, replacing some of the clothing he'd shredded.

Creed saw the surprise flicker across Joe's face. "Found her?"

"Found her." He repeated. "This was her a couple weeks ago." He held the phone up again. The Joe Demmer he knew never tipped his fucking hand. That hadn't changed with time either. The only thing that gave away the wave of relief that washed over the old man was his scent. He took the phone away again.

"She tell you I'd pay you?" Joe asked.

"She didn't tell me anything, 'cept that she trusted you. I ain't so sure if you deserve that yet." He took a long swallow of beer.

Joe's eyes narrowed just slightly. It was a tiny flicker that betrayed the depth of the old man's incredulity. "You almost sound like you-"

"She's mine," he finished with a little growl. "I fuckin' protect what's mine. More'n I can say for you."

"You just watch your goddamn mouth." The rage had reached Joe's eyes, his voice was a barely audible hiss. "I don't give a shit who you are or how big you are, you don't know a fucking thing about what I tried to do for those kids!"

Creed almost smiled. He could see where the frail got her mouth from. "You care to educate me then?"

Joe glanced around. They were in a far corner of the room, away from the activity of the bar and small dance floor. The secluded space was as private as one could find in a public place. "I tried." He didn't look at Creed when he spoke. "I figure I was too damn old, or I'd been out of the game for too damn long. Maybe it was both."

"Didn't have the balls for it?" Creed smirked.

He ignored the jab. "Never have been a fancy shot, but my aim is still dead on. He was supposed to be alone that first time, but the kids were with him. It was almost like the bastard fucking _knew_ and I wasn't about to expose the kids to that. The second time he never showed where he was supposed to be. The third time I got too desperate and sloppy and he caught me lurking around. He didn't have enough to go to the authorities, so he threatened my wife instead."

"So you gave up?"

"Hell no! I told him to go fuck himself. When him or one of his cronies started taking pot shots at Anna I started looking for someone to do the job for me. Course by that time all of my contacts were either off the radar or as old as me. I didn't know any of Carl's contacts-"

"Carl?" Another bell went off in Creed's head.

"My son. You ever meet him?"

"Don't think so."

Joe nodded slightly. "Anyway, he and I never talked about work in any kind of detail, so that didn't do me a damn bit of good anyway. The courts were no help in getting the kids out of there. It got to a point where Anna couldn't take it anymore and so I did my best to make us disappear."

"You did a pretty damn good job of that."

A little smile teased at the corner of Joe's mouth. "Always was my specialty, hiding in plain sight." That little flicker of a smile was extinguished. "I told myself that if we were out of the picture, he would ease up on the kids."

Creed rolled his eyes. "Well that's a steaming pile of shit."

"I fuckin' know that! It gave Anna something to hold on to though." He looked up, his eyes locked with Creed's. "She belongs with me, she's my blood."

He finished the beer. "Ain't gonna happen." He got up and tossed some cash on the table. Joe was on his feet quickly.

He grabbed Creed's arm. "Goddammit you ain't gonna just show me a couple of pictures and walk away!"

The feral growled dangerously. "You're gonna take your fuckin' hand off me or you're gonna lose it."

Joe didn't flinch. "Think that scares me?"

"I really don't give a shit." Creed's eyes were locked with Joe's. His claws were extended. "You gonna take your hand off me or am I gonna tell the frail that I had to rip off her grandfather's arm because he was being a jackass?"

Surprise flickered through Joe's eyes. He let go. "You're going to tell her you found me?"

Creed rolled his eyes. "You ask the same kinda dumbass questions she does sometimes." He pushed past the old man, leaving him standing in the dim room.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed walked in to the comfortable but lifeless apartment, fully intending to sleep. He'd picked up one more job for the way back through, but that wouldn't amount to any more than a pit stop along the way. He showered, getting the stink of the bar off of his skin, then got into bed. A half an hour later he was still laying there, staring up at the dark ceiling and he was getting pissed off about it.

It was all the frail's fault. She was the one who got him used to the way she smelled. She was the one who sighed in her sleep and snuggled against him. He'd make her fucking pay when he got home. He threw the blankets off and started getting his shit together. Laying there wasn't doing him a goddamn bit of good.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly stared down at the knitting in her hands, as if it was unfamiliar to her. Victor had been gone nearly a week and as time passed she slept less and less. It was making daily life almost unbearable.

In the beginning, Kelly thought she would never get used to being so close to Victor on a daily basis. In some ways, being so close to him was still unnerving. He could spend the better part of day communicating in growls and cold stares. She was never quite sure what would upset him and, if he was upset, what he would do with that anger. There were times when she was certain he'd hit her, but he took out his frustration on some object in the house instead. Other times the cuts and bruises he gave her were signs of his affection. She'd come to accept both of those things as just a part of life with Victor.

Conlon was another matter. He was polite. He did his best to make small talk during meals or in the evenings. He made sure to ask if there was anywhere she wanted or needed to go. He'd even talked her into going out to dinner a couple of times. All of it was very pleasant on the surface, but it was all just surface.

Victor didn't fly his emotions like a flag, but they would flicker across his face and body. His mouth would twitch or his eyes would soften for just a moment. Sometimes the set of his shoulders would change, or the ever-present tension in his jaw would relax for a minute or two. She didn't want someone to take Victor's place, she was sure there wasn't anyone on the planet – human or mutant – who could manage that. She had hoped she would at least get more comfortable with Conlon as the days went on, or that he would get more comfortable with her. So far, whatever wall that existed between them was still firmly in place. Maybe she would get used to it, like she'd gotten used to Victor. Maybe it would just take longer. Maybe if he wasn't always carrying that damn gun he wore on his belt she wouldn't be so uneasy around him.

Even if she and Conlon became best friends, it wouldn't fill the achy emptiness she felt. She missed Victor's growling impatience, the profanity he salted through the most ordinary statements and a thousand other little things she had barely noticed until they were gone. She felt his absence most at night. When the lights were on, he expected her to keep to her own side of the bed. Once he turned the lights off, he always drew her close, and she slept snuggled against his side, her bare skin against his, the world held at bay by his solid muscle and sharp claws.

Of course, she also missed the sex. The ache between her legs was getting every bit as intense as the ache in her heart the last few days. She'd tried to relieve it herself, but it hadn't even come close to being what she needed.

"Kelly?"

She glanced up at Conlon. His features were arranged to show concern, this time there was just a spark of it in his eyes as well. "What?"

"You've just been sitting there staring into space for the past half hour. Are you alright?"

She managed a small smile. "I guess I'm just a little tired. I think I'll go to bed."

"Good idea." An empty smile. "Sleep well."

She responded with an equally insincere smile. "Thanks, you too."

Kelly made sure she had her phone and then went upstairs, locking the door behind her. She hoped she would be tired enough to actually sleep. Even if she didn't sleep, she could toss and turn in private.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It was coming up on nine-thirty when he walked into the house and face to face with the barrel of a handgun. He rolled his eyes. "Put that damn thing away." He punched in the code to silence the alarm.

Conlon did as he was told. "Wasn't sure it was you."

"Somebody else have the master gate codes?"

"No, but-"

Even in the dim light Creed could see that Conlon had two nearly healed black eyes. He recognized the pattern of bruising as a broken nose. "What the fuck happened to your face?"

Conlon looked downright embarrassed. "Nothing, I just-"

"She hit you, didn't she." He couldn't suppress a grin. The smaller mutant looked away. "Told you she was scrappy."

"You didn't tell me she paces all night and when she does sleep she has nightmares. You also didn't tell me not to try and bring her out of one because she comes up swinging." Conlon was angry and embarrassed.

Creed shrugged. "So what the fuck do you want? Combat pay? Given your chosen profession I thought you could manage a skinny frail."

"Give her a few lessons, you won't need me."

Creed smirked. "Where is she?"

"Den. Probably still sleeping."

"Still?" His eyes narrowed.

"She fell asleep around seven and I'll be damned if I'm going to try and wake her up again."

He stared at the smaller mutant for a minute. "Get your shit together." Conlon disappeared into the small, downstairs guest room. Creed walked silently into the den. The fire was low and she was curled up in the large chair next to it, her head resting on the padded arm. She was covered with the throw from the back of the sofa. One foot stuck out from under the blanket, he recognized the pink and purple socks she'd been working on before he left. Her phone was clasped lightly in her hand. Even in the dim light he could see the dark circles exhaustion had etched under her eyes.

He stepped closer and took in her scent, but it wasn't the sweet fragrance he was hoping for. Even though she was deeply sleeping, anxiety was written in the tension lines on her face. The tang of it holding the sweet aroma hostage for the moment. His fingers itched to move a lock of her hair that had fallen over her face. The gesture was likely to wake her and he didn't want to do that until Conlon was gone. For the moment, he satisfied himself with the inhaling her scent deeply. This time he noticed that there was still the barest undertone of his own scent present. The corner of his mouth twitched into a little smile. He turned and exited the room silently.

Conlon was just entering the hall as well, Creed waved him into the kitchen and got a beer out for himself. He tossed a set of keys at the smaller mutant. Conlon reciprocated with the keys to the Escalade, then hesitated.

"What?" Creed asked.

"Nothing."

"Second half of your payment will be in your account by five tomorrow," Creed said. It was as close to a 'thank you' as he was prepared to give. Conlon nodded and walked out the door. Creed changed the house alarm codes and waited until the truck was through the gate before changing that code too.

He grinned and walked back toward the den. Time for the big, bad animal to wake up a scrappy little frail.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly wasn't sure what woke her at first, but whatever it was, she tried to ignore it. For a long moment, that seemed to be working. Maybe she had imagined whatever it was all along. She was drifting off again when she felt someone stroking her cheek. Conlon was the only other person in the house. Fear brought her fully awake, she scrambled to sit up in the chair. It took her a moment to process that it wasn't Conlon standing in front of her.

"Victor?"

"'F I say no, you gonna try and break my nose too?" He smirked.

Kelly smiled and managed a little shrug. "Not right now. My hand still hurts." She pulled her right hand out from under the blanket, her knuckles were swollen and covered in a large purple-black bruise. He grabbed it carefully, and started manipulating her fingers. Kelly winced.

"Lucky you didn't break your fucking hand too." He positioned her hand carefully, so that her palm was facing him, her fingers folded down. "If you hit him again, use the heel of your hand." He moved his grip to her wrist and pulled her down with him.

"Wasn't like I planned it, I just reacted." Her fingers wandered over the firm muscles of his stomach. The warm, musky scent she'd missed so much in the last week and a half was making her head spin.

"Reacted to what?" He sliced through the threads holding one of the buttons on her shirt. Then he moved on to the next one.

"I didn't recognize him for a minute." Kelly hesitantly fingered one of his buttons, waiting for some reproach. When none came, she opened the button and then the one below it. She nuzzled the mat of hair that came into view.

A deep purr rumbled from his chest. "Got bold while I was away, didn't you frail?" He abandoned the buttons of her shirt and started tearing through fabric.

"Missed you." Embolded further by his pleasure sounds, Kelly finished with the buttons on his shirt, her fingertips sliding inside. "Missed how you smell, how you taste." She placed a soft, sucking kiss on his skin, her tongue moving over it.

His claws dug painfully into her shoulder. For a moment she froze, unsure if he was angry or enjoying her ministrations. When her fingertips grazed the hard bulge in his jeans, she knew it was the latter. Despite the pain in her shoulder, the flavor of his skin was starting a fire in her lower tummy. She fumbled with his belt and the front of his pants, finally succeeding in freeing his thick erection from the confines of his clothing.

Kelly's mouth moved lower, exploring the defined muscles on his stomach while one hand stroked the length of his shaft. She was certain that he would stop her at any moment. He had never allowed her to touch him before, though he had never explained why. Her heart started to beat faster when her tongue dipped below his navel. She could taste the salty sweat on his skin and the organ in her hand pulsed.

At first, she took his low growl as encouragement, but then he pushed her away hard enough to send her head into one of the wooden chair legs.

"Who's in control here?" He grabbed her ankle and pulled her roughly into the center of the room, his claws making short work of the clothing she still had on.

"You are, but-"

His claws pressed into her belly. "But what?" His voice was low and dangerous.

Kelly arched her back, further exposing her vulnerable midsection to him. "I love it when you use your mouth on me, I wanted to give you the same thing." She lay there, exposed and trembling beneath him for what seemed like hours. The hint of some unfamiliar blend of emotions flickered across his face. She was still trying to work them out when he moved forward quickly, his claws digging in, just at the edge of breaking her skin. Kelly let out a strangled little whimper.

"Love those little whimpers, frail. Love how you smell when you're scared." He bit her lower lip hard enough to draw another little whimper. "Scared and wet."

He eased the pressure on her stomach, but raked his claws downward, toward her mound. Without thinking, Kelly opened her legs wider. One claw continued downward to barely tease her delicate folds. His mouth was on hers again, his tongue teasing her lips.

"Been a long time since you screamed for me. Hasn't it?"

Kelly barely heard him, she was too preoccupied with how the deadly weapon between her legs was terrifying her and driving her toward orgasm at the same time as it teased her clenching entrance.

"Well?" The talon tapped with just a bit more force, sending electric jolts of commingled pleasure and fear through her body.

"Y-yes." She managed.

He went back to barely touching her slick folds. His intense eyes on her face. "Yes _what_?"

"Yes, it's been...been a long time since I sc-screamed for you." She wanted more. Ached for it.

He grinned dangerously. "Gonna fix that, frail."

Without warning he shifted and slammed his entire length into her. Kelly did scream, and for a terrified moment she struggled to avoid the agonizing invasion. He put one hand on her neck, his thumb resting on her throat. The pressure was minimal, but she stopped struggling immediately. It didn't stop her tears or her whimpers, though.

"Still so fucking tight." He withdrew almost completely and drove into her again. She screamed again, but this time she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He started to move with a forceful rhythm. Kelly retreated into herself to the place she could only find when he was taking her. The deep pleasure, the pain, the fear, the need, it all made sense for those few minutes when he was inside her. She didn't have to try to explain it to herself, she could just experience it all and let it drive her toward release.

His movements became harder, faster. Her release was a shock when it hit, her legs wrapped tighter around him. He unwrapped them and pushed them back, spreading her wide and making use of her trembling body.

Kelly felt another intense wave engulf her consciousness. His roar of release was all that broke through.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The air around them was perfumed with thick blood, fear, release and her sweet scent. He swept his tongue over one of the long scratches on her abdomen. Fucking frail. He could get along anywhere he wanted in the world. He'd been shot, stabbed, beaten and a hundred other things he'd forced himself to forget. None of it had ever made him lose control for very long. None of it ever would. None of it had done jack shit to prepare him for her, either.

The frail was trembling under him. He recognized the swallowed whimpers of pain. He gently pinched and rolled her right nipple. This time, the little whimpers were louder, but pain was balanced with pleasure. She stroked the back of his head and the nape of his neck as his tongue moved. The unconscious touch sent warm droplets of pleasure trickling down his spine.

He'd let her use her mouth. As long as she did it on his terms, under his control.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly lay on her side with Victor behind her. His hands moved over her hip and thigh and occasionally around to gently tease the scabbed over scratches on her tummy. His lips and teeth moved over her neck and shoulder, the careful nips breaking the skin from time to time. There was something strangely soothing about it. Kelly sighed contentedly.

She felt his low growl as much as she heard it. "Think you like that, frail."

"I do."

He chuckled. "Somethin' else." He nipped a little harder this time, sending a shudder through her.

"Wait." She put her hand over his, stroking it softly.

"What?"

"I'm cold, let me get a blanket."

"You're always too damn cold." He grabbed her blanket from the chair and wrapped her in it. Then he settled behind her again.

"You're always too warm." She smiled over her shoulder.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "If you weren't so fucking skinny you wouldn't be cold all the damn time."

"Must be all the exercise I get." She relaxed against his chest.

"You got plenty of rest while I was gone and you're gonna spend the next few days sitting on your ass in the truck."

Kelly turned quickly, the blanket held over her breasts. "Are we leaving here?"

"For awhile." He tugged the cover away and pulled her close again.

"How long?"

He shrugged. "How long you wanna spend with your grandparents?"

It took a long moment for her to register what he'd said. "You found them? While you were gone?"

"Nah, found 'em before I left. Made sure they were okay when I was gone."

Kelly couldn't believe what she was hearing, she pulled away from him. Anger settled like a hard knot in her chest. "They're my family! Of course they're-"

"Your mother is your family too. You wanna give her a call? Maybe set up a lunch date?" He advanced on her, his eyes cold.

"It's not the same!"

"Bullshit it's not!" He grabbed her wrist and dragged her close, his face inches from hers. "From what I know, your family is a pretty fucked up bunch and people don't get that fucked up on their own. Somebody nurtures it in 'em and nobody does _that _like family." His jaw was tight, his claws partially extended, digging into her wrist.

Kelly started to tremble, her wide eyes locked on his. "I-I'm sorry." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"What was that?" He cocked his head.

"I'm sorry." She managed to speak a little louder. "I didn't think of it that way."

He gave a derisive snort and shoved her away. He got up and found her phone and tossed it at her. "Call 'em. I'll give you the number."

"It's late-"

"Yeah and if don't you're not gonna get any fuckin' sleep and neither am I." He found his phone and read off the number.


	12. Points of Contact

**Hi Everyone!**

**Sorry this update has taken so long. It's like someone set off an insanity bomb in my life lately. A special thank you to everyone who reads and comments on this chapter after such a long time. Knowing people are still enjoying inspires me to find time to write, even if I'm actually supposed to be doing something else. :)**

**Something I have to mention: I am not trying to insult anyone's home state, in fact I used the state I live in as well.**

**As usual, I make no money from this and don't own Victor or the X-Men.**

**I hope you all enjoy!**

**psyche b**

12. Points of Contact

Kelly keyed in the numbers that he read off.

"Victor-"

He gave a warning growl, picked up his pants and left the room. She was torn between finishing the call and going after him. When he was this upset sometimes it was better to just keep her distance. She hit Send.

As soon as she heard the first ring, Kelly realized she had no idea what she was going to say. What could she say really? Explaining everything would take too long, but that 'everything' had remade her from the girl they knew into someone they probably wouldn't even recognize now. She wasn't entirely sure she would recognize them either.

There was another ring on the other end of the line. The throbbing in her tummy and between her legs was secondary to the tightness in her chest. The phone was picked up.

"Demmer."

Kelly's mouth went dry. The voice was so much like her father's that the memories drove out any half-formed thoughts she might have had. The silence stretched as she tried to find her voice again.

"Demmer." He repeated. There was guarded annoyance in the familiar voice.

"Grandpa?"

"Kelly? Oh thank god!" She heard him move the phone away from his mouth. "Anna, pick up the extension."

"Kelly? Is that really you?" Her grandmother asked.

"It's really me."

They both began to talk at once, each asking questions one right after the other without giving her a chance to answer any of them. Had she run away? Where was she? Was she safe? Was Cody with her? There were other things that she missed too. Kelly laughed softly, stopping the flow of words.

"I'm fine. Victor's kept me safe."

"Who's Victor?" Her grandmother asked.

"We talked about that." Her grandfather interjected.

"You told me a name. You didn't say who he was." Anna answered.

"He's the man who found me, Granna."

"Found you?" She sounded shocked. "And you didn't tell me anything about that, Joe."

Kelly fought to put words together. Her first instinct was to shelter them from the ugliness of it. "Stan sent to live with someone else, and when that didn't work out I ran away. Victor found me wandering around in the woods on his property. I've been staying with him ever since."

"Well thank heaven you found someone willing to help you." She said. "When is he sending you out here?"

"He's not sending me anywhere Granna." At least, Kelly hoped he wasn't. "He did say we would both be out there to see you though."

"And he'll drop you off." She said firmly.

"Anna, I don't think that's how it's going to work." Her grandfather said.

"Well why not? Why else would he want to keep her? She's only a child."

"She isn't a child anymore." There was something almost like anxiety in her grandfather's voice.

"Maybe not in years, but all that time with Stan and all his nonsense stunted her development. She needs to be with her family."

"I'll make that decision for myself." Kelly broke in before anyone had a chance to say anything else.

"That isn't a decision you should be making on your own. You don't have the experience to-"

"Granna, life with Stan-"

"You have to forget that. It's not going to do you any good to think about it."

"It's a part of who I am," Kelly said firmly.

"Kelly-"

"Anna, that's enough. Kelly didn't call to be lectured." The tone made it clear that he wasn't going to listen to any arguments.

"Victor didn't tell me where you were," Kelly said, hoping to ease the awkwardness of the moment.

"A little town in Ohio." He answered.

"What's it like?" She asked. It was superficial, but that was how it would have to stay for the time being. Maybe, when they were face to face, that would change.

"It's absolutely lovely," Granna said. She started to go on about their church and their neighbors. Kelly shifted into a more comfortable position and just listened.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly had to work to keep the little winces of pain off of her face as she moved toward the kitchen. The last time she was this sore was the first time he'd taken her to his bed. After a stop in the small downstairs bathroom to wash away the rest of the dried blood, she'd folded the throw in half and wrapped it around herself so that one end tucked in between her breasts, serving to hold the makeshift garment in place. She carried what remained of the rest of her clothing with her. She had no idea what she was going to say to him. He never accepted gratitude or apologies. She knew she owed him both. The idea of someone else going to those lengths to protect her was still something of a foreign concept though. She wished he didn't have to.

She opened the door and found him standing in the dimly lit room, looking at the icy snow swirling outside the picture window. He was shirtless and barefoot. His belt was unbuckled. As soon as the door opened he turned his head, but not enough to look at her. Kelly felt her heart start to pound.

"I shouldn't have gotten so upset-"

"Those unwearable?" He turned to face her a little more.

"Yeah." Kelly managed a nervous little smile. "I should take up braiding rugs."

A little smile flickered across his lips. "Smartass."

Kelly's smile lingered. "Just trying to be practical about it." She dumped the tangle of fabric into the trash.

"You get reacquainted with your grandparents?" He moved closer to her.

She felt a blush color her cheeks. "Yes. They asked when we were leaving and when we would get there."

He leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed. "What'd you say?"

It was a test. She looked up at him. "That I'd ask you and call back tomorrow."

He watched her for a moment. "We leave day after tomorrow if you can get yourself together by then. C'mon, you look like you haven't slept in a goddamn week." He grabbed her arm and led her toward the stairs.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed woke with a start at a little after three in the morning. For a long moment, he thought he had only dreamed of getting back to the house in Maine, then the frail's scent broke through the lingering fog of sleep. After a long, hot shower she'd fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, but somewhere in the last few hours she'd moved away and was laying on her back with the sheet and blankets pooled around her waist. The moonlight filtering in through the wide windows sculpted her curves and angles in silver light, making her seem almost like a creature of ether and fevered dreams who would disappear as quickly as she had appeared.

He turned onto his side and propped his head up on one hand. At the edge of the sheet he could just see the beginnings of the wounds on her stomach. They were a clear reminder of how fragile she was, how easy it would be to lose her. The thought made him angry. It made him itch for some reassurance that he hadn't lost her already. He reached out almost hesitantly, his claws retracted, and let the pads of his fingertips skate lightly down her arm. He could feel the goosebumps raise on her skin, and he could see her nipples pucker as well. The tiny response emboldened him, and he let his fingers travel over her ribs and up between her breasts. She moaned and arched her back in unconscious - but obvious – pleasure.

A little smile touched his lips. He slowly traced the left side of her delicate clavicle, then back over to the right. Her skin felt like silk under his fingertips. He couldn't say he remembered much about most of the frails he'd had, but he was certain that none of them felt like this. They were always wrapped in sticky terror. Even in the beginning, before he decided that his claws were too long for tender touches and his fangs got in the way of soft words, they'd always acted like he was some kind of storybook monster come to life. It'd made it easy to prove them right. Made it easy to take what he wanted because he was certain it would never be freely offered.

One fingertip explored the hollow of her throat, and she arched her back. The old blood smell of wounds bloomed in the air. He knew most of it wasn't from the deep scratches on her stomach either. Her legs moved, almost fighting against the covers. He watched her struggle for a moment before he felt the shift in her. The small hand that stroked his wrist told him that she was awake, but he hesitated before looking up at her, waiting for fear to permeate her sweet scent. It never happened. When he looked into her eyes, there was a little smile on her lips.

He pulled her against his chest and wrapped the blankets around her shoulders.

"You okay?" She asked when she was snuggled against him.

"Why?" He couldn't keep all of his surprise out of the question. No one ever asked if he was okay.

She shrugged against him. "It's so late, and the way you were looking at me. I was just curious."

He rolled his eyes. She didn't miss a goddamn thing, even when she couldn't see anything. "Just getting caught up in your penchant for sentimental bullshit. Go back to sleep."

She took a deep breath and as she released it, he could feel the wakefulness leaving her body as well. "Yours." She murmured.

"Mine." The word came out in a rumbling purr. One arm tightened around her waist.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Kelly woke up with her back against Victor's chest. He was toying with her nipples. She grinned and turned to face him. He let her move, but when she tried to kiss the hollow of his throat, he growled softly. Kelly waited until he pulled her forward, then she kissed him almost reverently. His hand tightened in her hair. Kelly couldn't resist letting her tongue flicker over his skin, tracing the tempting little depression. He growled again, but there was no warning in it this time, just pure enjoyment. Her fingertips drifted down over his side and down to the front of his hip, stopping just short of his quivering erection.

"Think teasing me is a good idea, frail?" He nipped her earlobe softly.

"Last time I offered to follow through you got upset." Her fingers traced next to his thick organ. "I don't think I'm ready for that kind of upset again so soon."

A little shrug. "Maybe you didn't ask right." One claw scraped over her tailbone. Coming from him, it was a tender gesture.

"How should I ask?" Her lips grazed the front of his throat.

"Don't know yet." Claws tickled down over her thigh. Kelly arched against him.

She moved her hand to his back, a teasing little smile tugged at her lips. "Then maybe I should play it safe, at least for a little while."

He put his hand on her waist and traced on of the scabbed lines on her stomach with his thumb. "Tummy still hurts, huh?" It was a low, mocking purr.

Kelly blushed and hid her face a little more. "Not exactly."

"Just gave you what you wanted." His clawed thumb drifted down to the front of her mound. The sensation made her shiver, but she stayed silent. He applied just a bit more pressure. "Didn't I, frail?"

"Yes." Kelly whispered.

His hand drifted over to her back again. "Course I can see how you might not have been completely ready." A claw scraped over her tailbone again, just enough to make her press closer. "That ain't my fault, but I guess you might deserve some kind of a reward."

He managed to sound annoyed, but Kelly recognized that annoyance as pretense. She hid her little smile against his chest and let one finger graze the side of his engorged shaft. "What kind of reward?"

"Fuckin' frail. Always yammering on about somethin' stupid when there's better things you could be doing with your mouth." He moved onto his back and pushed firmly against Kelly's shoulder. His meaning was clear.

As eager as she'd been for this very thing the night before, she felt completely at a loss now. She didn't really know what she was doing. What if she couldn't please him?

He twisted his hand in her hair and forced her to look up at him. For a long moment, he simply watched her with those hard eyes. Kelly's heart started to pound. "Do what you were doing last night." He released her hair and she let it fall over her face.

The sound of blood rushing in her ears covered almost everything else. Her lips and fingers trembled at first. She could feel a tension in his body too, and not the usual tension he had in these moments. It was something decidedly more uncomfortable. It was almost enough to make her stop, but he kept up the pressure against her shoulder.

Kelly teased his nipple with the tip of her tongue. He groaned and arched his back. The taste of his skin made her want more. She blazed a trail of soft, sucking kisses and teasing licks down the side of his body while her hand stroked his shaft. There was still tension in his body, but it had shifted to something more familiar, more comfortable.

Her mouth made slower progress when she passed his navel. She traced the firm muscles with her tongue, defining them in a new way and drawing an impatient growl. His shaft was heavy and hot against her cheek. She turned and licked the side softly, from the nest of dark curls to the flared tip. It was a new landscape and Kelly immersed herself in learning every hill and valley. She teased with her tongue and let her teeth stroke over his skin, noting each pleasure sound, each vital pulse. The flavor of his silky skin was intoxicating. She barely noticed the claws digging into her shoulder, or the deep growling purr. All she noticed what the way he tasted, the way he felt in her hands and in her mouth.

Her head moved slowly, taking just the tip in her mouth, then pulling back and taking a little more the next time until she couldn't take any more. Her tongue rubbed the underside as her head moved. One hand stroked the part of his shaft she couldn't fit into her mouth, the other hand dipped lower, exploring and teasing his heavy sack. She could heard her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and sometimes a growl from him, but anything he was saying was lost.

Tension was building in his body, but a familiar, needy ache had settled into her tummy too. Her head and hands moved faster and with more assurance, realizing that his pleasure was connected inextricably to her own need. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours, but at some point he pushed her away. The world spun around her for a moment and when it came to rest again, she was on her back. He was holding her legs open wide and staring at her most intimate places in the bright, winter sunlight that was streaming into the room. The exposure made her tremble and brought tears to her eyes. He'd looked at her like this a hundred times, but never when she felt so bruised and torn.

Kelly started to pull away, but he held her still. He shifted over her. His tongue started on her right thigh, teasing close to her quivering center, but avoiding it in favor of her other thigh. The rough surface of his tongue made her shiver with want. With need. Just the sensation of his breath across her delicate folds was enough to make her squirm. He held her still and let just the tip of his tongue tease the throbbing pearl that was hidden there. It was enough to push aside the ache and self-consciousness. Kelly dove headlong into that familiar, hungry pleasure. Through her cries of release, he kept up the tender ministrations that kept her inside that pleasure-bubble.

When the intensity ebbed, he moved over her, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that made her tremble with tender intensity.

"Can't. Please..." She murmured against his mouth.

"Trust me, frail." It was a command, like everything else. There was something different in his voice, though. Something softer that she couldn't describe, but it was instantly comforting.

He took more time and more care than he ever had before. Each small movement brought a pained whimper. She didn't try to escape him though, she held him tighter.

*~*~*~*~*~*

She was laying mostly on his chest, a little smile on her lips. One hand wandered over her back. The scent of fucking mixed with anxiety, bruised and bloody pain and that sweet vanilla relaxation that he'd missed so much. It was a heady cocktail that might have given him another raging hard on under any other circumstances. Feeling her holding onto him, giving herself over to his pleasure but taking none herself made his release...what? He'd cum, so it couldn't have been too goddamn bad. Still, there was something missing. Her pussy didn't grip his cock hungrily. It didn't quiver around him as she came.

And why the _fuck_ was all that suddenly so goddamn important anyway? He used to like tearing frails apart. Hearing them begging for mercy and release from the degradation of it made it better. Watching the agony contort their faces made him want to keep going until there was nothing left to tear out of them except their last few breaths.

But none of them had been his. Not in the way she was.

Maybe that was too fucking complicated for him. Maybe-

A giggle broke his train of thought.

He tugged a lock of her hair. "Somethin' funny, frail?" Anything he'd been thinking had evaporated.

"Your stomach is growling so loud it woke me up."

He glanced around at the light in the room. "No wonder. It's gotta be close to noon."

She brushed her lips over his shoulder. "Give me a couple of minutes to get cleaned up and I'll get some lunch going."

"No."

She looked surprised. "Why not?"

"'Cause, we got shit to do today and we might as well get lunch while we're out."

"But I have to get the house ready-"

"What the fuck do you think I pay a cleaning service for? 'Sides, if I know you, you been through this place top to bottom at least twice since I been gone. Haven't you?"

She blushed and lowered her eyes.

He tugged on that lock of hair. "Well?"

"Yes."

He snorted, but couldn't resist a flicker of a smile. "Thought so." He let go of her hair and gave her a careful shove, because she would expect it. "Get going."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Shopping with Victor was always an experience. In the beginning, she was certain that he would hate waiting for her to make up her mind. It didn't take long for her to realize that, of the two of them, he was the one who was far more exacting and demanding.

She was almost used to the way he spent money. He earned it, he could spend it however he liked. She had just never seen anyone spend it in such quantities with so little consideration. Even in the good times when her father's business had been doing well, the family still lived modestly. The first trip, it was difficult to reconcile that with what Victor thought she should have, especially since she knew so much of it would probably end up in shreds anyway. After that, she found it easier if she tried on what he told her to and avoided looking at prices entirely. Uncomfortable as she might be with the cost, she could never fault his taste.

This time, Victor decided that she needed a set of luggage. Kelly protested, showing him her newly repaired backpack and several of the nicer shopping bags she'd set aside for packing things if he decided that they needed to move again. He'd just groaned and told her that she wasn't a bag lady and he wasn't going to let her act like she was. Kelly knew when arguing was useless.

As usual, Victor wasn't satisfied with anything they were shown at first. She hung back while he argued with the saleswoman, convinced he got a strange kind of pleasure out of the dance of offer and rejection. Eventually she ended up with a very nice Diane Von Furstenberg four piece set in burgundy. Kelly was sure that she could fit everything she had and then some into those four bags. She knew better than to say anything though.

On the way home, they'd stopped for dinner and spent most of the evening dozing together on the sofa. Just hearing him breathe was comforting. His heavy arm resting on her back made her feel safe from the world. After getting so little sleep while he was gone, she didn't fight the little naps that overtook her.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed woke up to the sound of a vibrating cell phone. He opened his eyes and saw the frail's handbag moving slightly. She was still deeply asleep so he shifted her carefully and grabbed the phone.

"Creed." He glanced at the sleeping girl, and walked into the kitchen.

"Oh." There was a long pause. "I thought I dialed Kelly's number."

He recognized Joe's voice. "You did. She's sleeping."

"Is she alright?" The voice was instantly concerned.

"She's never been tired before?" He didn't attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"That's not what I mean, it's just early and she said she would call."

"If she wakes up before it gets too late I'll have her call you back. If not, she'll call tomorrow. Either from the road or when we get to wherever we're gonna spend the night."

"So you're leaving tomorrow then. How long will it take you to-"

"A few days."

"Alright." He paused. Creed knew he was going to say something else. "She really is alright? She's not...sick or anything?"

The question irritated him. "You wanna know the truth? I think she's used to me fucking her every night before she falls asleep, so while I was away she didn't get as much rest as usual. That what you want to hear?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. "Have her call. I know Anna wants to talk to her."

"Sure." He ended the call and dropped the phone back into the frail's bag. She was still curled up on the sofa, though if he hadn't seen her hair he might have thought there was nothing there but a crumpled blanket. He lay down and started carefully shifting her again. This time she woke up.

"What?" Her voice was thick with sleep.

"Nothin'. Got up to answer your phone."

"Sorry. I didn't hear it." She shifted so that he could get comfortable. He pulled her back against him again.

"S'okay. Was your grandfather. Said your grandmother was anxious to talk to you about something."

She groaned. "She wants to lecture me."

"She hasn't even seen you. What the fuck could she want to lecture you about?" His fingers combed through her hair. He could feel the little shivers of relaxation chasing each other down her body, but he could smell the tang of anxiety too. She stayed silent. "Well?"

"She wants me to live there," she said. Her face was hidden against his shoulder.

There was a painful tightness in his chest. "That what you want?"

She looked up at him. "No. I don't want to lose touch with them again, and I know that Cody needs them, but I don't belong there permanently."

The tight pain dissipated as quickly as it had come. He started moving his fingers through her hair again. "She didn't like that answer?"

She settled against him, the anxiety gone from her scent. She shrugged. "To her I'm still a little girl. She doesn't want to even hear about anything that's happened in the meantime, or at least she isn't ready to hear it yet."

"You ready to tell it?" That surprised him.

"No, at least not most of it. I can't just pretend it didn't happen though. That makes it worse."

Her face was hidden, but her could feel the little tremor that went through her body. The scent of anxiety returned and it brought the tightness back to his chest.

She sat up, her hair hiding her face. "I should call them back."

He held her arm and waited for her to look at him. After a moment she glanced out from around her hair. He moved the rest of her hair aside so that he could see both of her eyes. It was another one of those times that Wilson, or Jimmy or anyone would have known what to say, would have known how to offer her comfort or warmth or _something_ besides silence. The moment stretched between them while he got lost in her sea glass eyes, searching for the right words, the right gesture. In the end, she made it. Kelly moved his hand off of her arm, turned it palm up, closed his fingers gently and kissed the base of each claw.

"Thank you." Her voice was barely a whisper. She was up and gone before he had a chance to say anything.

Fucking frail. Always inside his head even when she wasn't and still able to surprise him at every turn. A little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time Kelly got off the phone with her grandparents she had a throbbing headache. She paused in the doorway. Victor was sitting up, flipping through television channels. The perpetually bored look was back on his face. The softness he'd shown only half an hour before was once again hidden as if it had never existed in the first place. She'd expected no less.

"I was going to make myself some tea. Do you want anything?"

He didn't glance at her. "A beer."

Kelly smiled a little, turned, and went back into the kitchen. Strange as her world was, his gruff silence made her feel like everything was right with that world.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Kelly lingered over her packing. This shouldn't have been so hard. As expanded as her wardrobe was, it wasn't so large that sorting through it was terribly difficult or time consuming.

"What the fuck is taking you so long?" He was growling, his jaw was tight.

"What if this is a really bad idea?" The question was out before she could consider it.

He sat on the edge of the bed. "Frail, why do you always pick the worst goddamn times to be a pain in my ass?"

"I'm not trying to-"

"Just a natural talent of yours huh?" He lounged back on the bed.

Kelly turned away so that he couldn't see her deep blush. She searched through the top drawer of her dresser and put enough underwear for a week and a half in the bag.

"You may as well tell me."

Kelly felt his eyes on her. She looked up at him. "They live in Ohio."

He rolled his eyes. "Well that just clears it right up."

She grabbed several pairs of jeans. "You know CoH has chapters all over the country."

"Yeah. So?" He watched her.

"Michigan and Ohio have two of the largest proportions of CoH members in the country. There isn't an even distribution, but I still feel like we're walking right in to CoH territory." Kelly put neatly folded turtlenecks and a couple of sweaters in with the jeans.

He was silent, thinking about what she'd just said. "You know where it's the densest?"

She looked away. "No. I know Stan had that information, but he never said it out loud when I could hear it."

He got up. "They're gonna be looking for the bony frail from the picture and expecting her to skulk around, trying not to be noticed. You don't look like that anymore and you sure as hell ain't gonna act like that."

"But-"

"You got ten more minutes. If you're not downstairs and ready to go by then you're going with just the clothes on your back. Understand?" His usual commanding tone had returned.

Kelly knew he wasn't kidding about making her go with only what she wore. She turned her attention back to her packing.

"Frail." His voice was softer. She looked up at him. "I protect what's mine."


	13. Deeper

**Hi Everyone!**

**Back to work again after wild and restful, crazy and wonderful holidays! **

**Thank you for all the wonderful comments and speculations about the previous chapter,and thanks to all of you who are regular readers. I'm still very into this story and I'm glad that all of you are too. Hopefully you'll enjoy this new chapter just as much as the previous ones.**

**Enjoy!**

**psyche b.**

13. Deeper

The frail was anxious and had been since they'd pulled out of the driveway. Creed couldn't really blame her either. The whole thing pissed him off. With all the shit he'd done, he was the one who should have been a fugitive. She should have been...what? It had been so long since he tried to picture her as anything but his that now no images came. He just knew that she deserved _better._

From the corner of his eye, he could see that she was knitting something again. He didn't give a shit what it was, he was looking for outward signs of the anxiety that permeated her scent. Her jaw wasn't clenched. Her hands didn't tremble or grasp the nasty-looking nest of needles any more tightly than usual. Her eyes were fixed on her work and every so often she'd stop to count. She might have been sitting on the couch next to him. It was perfectly ordinary and too fucking perfect.

He'd seen that kind of calm before, but only in wartime. Being under fire was one thing, you could wait it out or fight it out and you learned how to tell the difference if you lived long enough. Being under threat was something else. That shit could go on for an hour or a week or a month and there was no way to tell when it was going to end until it did.

Guys handled it different. Some didn't sleep, some slept all the fucking time. Some parked themselves in one spot and waited for something to happen. Others couldn't take the indecision and went looking to make something happen. Then there were those who just went on about life as if there was no threat looming. Usually it meant they had already seen to much shit. Already spent so damn much time under siege and learned how to go numb to the insideous agony of it.

She started to hum along with the Vivaldi that was currently playing. Even that gave nothing away.

"Frail."

She looked at him, a nervous little smile on her lips. "Sorry, was I humming?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't too annoying yet. You hungry?"

She glanced at the the clock before she answered. "It's nearly lunchtime."

"Not what I asked."

A little shrug, her eyes turned toward the window as if she was suddenly fascinated by the scenery that was slipping by. "It's been hours since breakfast."

He recognized the deflection, but calling her on it wasn't going to do him a damn bit of good. "We'll stop in half an hour."

"Sounds good." Another flicker of a smile.

He gripped the wheel tighter. She was doing exactly what he told her to do and watching her do it made his teeth ache.

"Frail." He waited until she looked at him. "Pretend for other people."

She blushed. "Am I that bad at it?"

"No, but I don't wanna watch you fall apart before we get to Philly."

"Philadelphia in Pennsylvania?" The surprise registered in her voice.

"Yeah. Unless they moved it an nobody told me."

"I didn't think that was exactly on the way."

"It is when you're avoiding New York state as much as possible."

"I didn't realize you were planning to..." Some of the anxiety faded. "Is that where we're spending the night?" She seemed hesitant to ask the question. Probably because of the trip to Maine.

His shoulders twitched in a little shrug. "Thought about driving straight through, but I figured there wasn't any big hurry. Got any more questions?" He made sure to add a little snarl to the end, just because she would be expecting it.

She smiled a little, probably recognizing his pretense and following his lead. "No."

He could smell her anxiety receding. He couldn't say he understood why, but he wasn't going to question it either.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Somewhere in rural Connecticut, they changed vehicles again. Kelly was familiar with the process this time, so driving up to a seemingly ramshackle building in the middle of nowhere wasn't nearly as unsettling as it had been that first time. The black BMW 750i had a cherry undertone to the paint and an air of danger and power surrounding it. In other words, it had Victor written all over it.

She tried not to stare at it as he moved the luggage and covered the Escalade, but she didn't succeed. While she tried to keep out of the way, she wondered if he changed vehicles midway through every trip, and if he did exactly how many he had. She knew they weren't all like this. The old Chevy he'd driven from the cabin wasn't-

A sharp tug on her hair broke her train of thought and pulled her off balance. Kelly stumbled back into his chest. He supported her weight with his hand on her head. He nipped the sensitive spot just under her earlobe, leaving another stinging scratch. It made whatever she was thinking about seem monumentally unimportant. She leaned back into him. He chuckled and gave her a little shove.

"That staring's another habit I'm gonna have to break you of." He grinned and walked around to the other side of the car.

"I was trying not to stare." Kelly said when they were both inside.

"Well you were doing a shitty job of it." A little smile teased around the corners of his mouth and eyes.

"We left for Maine in a blue Impala that had seen better days. The change is taking a little getting used to."

He shrugged and backed out. "It's what people expected." He got out to close the doors and reset the codes. Kelly wondered how he remembered so many different ones.

"What who expected?" Kelly had her knitting out again, but it was sitting in her lap. She turned a little in her seat to look at him. Much of her time with Victor was spent in silence. She got the impression he liked it that way, and she didn't feel compelled to fill the empty space with meaningless chatter either. When he was in the mood to talk though, Kelly found that she would rather listen to him than do anything else.

"People in town." He maneuvered carefully on the dirt road and onto the small lane. "For the most part, people ain't really very observant, except when it comes to something that they think doesn't quite fit. They might not even know what about it seems off, but it sticks out all the same. They would take one look at this car or the SUV and wonder why I built in the middle of fucking nowhere instead of on one of the lakes. The Impala is similar enough to what most of them drive that it doesn't draw a second look or a second thought. I'm just another guy who works hard for his vacations. They forget me as soon as I'm out of sight."

"And in Maine the Impala would have stood out because people in town would have known that restoring the house was an expensive project."

"Exactly."

"The Escalade wouldn't have fit in where we're going now?"

A little smirk curled the corner of his lips. "It would have, but this was on the way."

Kelly laughed and picked up her knitting again.

"What does Stan drive?" He asked after a few minutes.

Kelly got the impression there was more to the question than a way to make conversation. It didn't matter why he asked, it brought the image sharply to mind. "A dark green Aerostar. It had this big dent in the driver's door that was about the size of a basketball. I guess it had been there awhile, because the edges of one side of it were starting to rust. There was rust along the bottom edge of the sliding door too." She moved her fingers, as if drawing the shapes in the air. "I remember it looked like the bottom of an aquarium, with rocks and plants..."

"You remember the goddamn plate number too?" The sound of his voice pulled her back to the present. Curiosity was woven through the sarcasm.

"Would you be surprised if I did?"

He glanced at her. "I'd be more surprised if you didn't. Think it's changed now that he's important?"

Kelly thought about that for a minute. "I don't know. Part of the reason Stan kept the van with all the dents and rust and stuff was that he said the people he wanted to reach wouldn't see him as 'one of them' if he drove a better vehicle than they did. I'm not sure if he's going to stick to that, or if he'll decide that a person in his position won't look credible if he's driving a beat up minivan."

"Calculating motherfucker."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly stood in the marble shower of the Philadelphia Ritz-Carlton and let the hot water start to untie the knots in her shoulders. The last few hours had been a study in excess, and while she was getting more accustomed to Victor's excesses it still made an impression.

The hotel had started off as a bank at the turn of the twentieth century. The elegance of that period had been maintained and blended with modern luxury. She'd fought not to stare at the soaring rotunda they'd walked into, or the sweeping staircases that lead to upper floors. The spacious suite they were given was comfortably appointed with beige and gold turn of the century furniture and was far too large for one night. The meal that he ordered from room service would have fed six people easily. By the time Victor was finished, the only thing left was the slice of chocolate cake he'd ordered for her. If she hadn't been so nervous from the minute she stepped out of the car it would have had a fairy tale quality about it.

Kelly rubbed the back of her neck and wondered if she was being paranoid about the whole thing. She wasn't one of the FBI's most wanted, nor was she some kind of criminal. Even people who were hid in plain sight for decades. If someone did notice, so what? She was an adult, the police couldn't get involved. Victor could handle just about anything else. When it came right down to it, he could probably handle the police, too. She smiled a little. All of this worry was probably an exercise in ego and imagination.

Now all she had to do was repeat that over and over until she believed it.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly emerged a few minutes later wrapped in one of the hotel's thick terrycloth robes. The dim light from a single lamp led her to the king-sized bed. She laid it over a nearby chair and pulled the covers back. He grabbed her wrist.

"What the fuck is that?" His eyes swept over the dark green silk nightgown she was wearing.

"A nightgown." Kelly blushed and wished there was more to the spaghetti-strapped knee length garment.

"I can see that. I don't remember seeing you ever wear it before." He let go of her wrist.

"You saw it." She slid into the part of the bed he wasn't currently occupying.

"When?"

"When we were at the mall a couple of weeks ago. I'm surprised you don't remember. That saleswoman almost had heart failure when you walked into the dressing room." Kelly blushed again at the memory.

He grinned. "She didn't seem to mind so much when I handed over my credit card." He moved closer and started fingering the silky hemline. "Why'd you wait 'til now to wear it?"

"Because..." Kelly squirmed a little as he exposed more of her thigh, his body moving forward until his face was inches from hers. She found she couldn't remember what she was about to say. "Because..." She tried to remember her reason.

He advanced when she retreated and retreated when she advanced, always maintaining that tantalizing distance between them.

"Well, frail?" His voice was a soft purr, his eyes fixed on hers. One claw started to slice through the fabric.

"Don't." The word came out in a strangled whisper. Her heart was pounding so loudly, Kelly was sure that he could hear it.

"Why not?" His hand moved carefully, cutting through the silk, but leaving her skin untouched.

"Won't have anything to sleep in."

"So? You sleep naked all the time." His lips teased close to hers, just for second, then he pulled away again. "I like it that way. Means less work for me when I wanna fuck you."

"That's different-"

"Really?" He shifted so that Kelly could feel his erection against her leg. "'Cause I'm just as hard as always and I can already smell how wet your little pussy is." His tongue teased her lips, but he backed away again before Kelly could draw him into a kiss.

He sliced through the left strap and then the right one. It was a losing battle. Her head was spinning. "Still bruised."

A dark chuckle. "Think I don't know that?" One claw traced sharp, quick lines down her sternum and over her quivering tummy. "You're still hungry to have me inside you though, aren't you frail?"

The silk separated and slithered off to her sides. He grinned again at the sight of her hard nipples.

"I..."

He bent his head and blew cool air across the right one. The jolt of sensation traveled like an electric pulse to Kelly's core. She whimpered with need.

"Still gonna deny it?" He moved and blew over her left nipple.

"N-no." She moved under him, opening her legs wider, offering herself.

He looked down at her, appraising. "Uh-uh frail, begging don't count 'less you're on your knees."

He moved away from her completely, a self-satisfied little smirk on his face. Kelly turned over onto her stomach and then drew her knees up under her.

"Wider." She could hear the wide grin in his voice.

Kelly buried her face in the pillow and displayed herself. Eternal seconds crept by as she waited, exposed.

He clucked his tongue. "So swollen and needy already."

Without warning his tongue lightly traced her pouting sex. It was almost enough for Kelly. One large hand stroked down her spine, his hand settling lightly around her neck from behind. She felt his weight shift behind her. She whimpered into the soft pillow. She felt him pressing against her entrance with a careful, steady pressure. His hand started massaging her neck.

"Relax for me." It was a command, like it always was. Like always, Kelly didn't question it, she just did her best to do it.

The way he touched her made that easier. His hips rocked slowly until he was completely sheathed inside her. Kelly quivered around him, her little whimpers of need hidden in the soft pillow. Need overwhelmed uncertainty about the readiness of her own body. She pushed back, encouraging him. His claws dug into her shoulder, her fingers dug into the mattress.

As his rhythm built, the mundane pieces of life seemed like nothing more than stuffing to fill the spaces between times when he was inside her. She alternated between riding the cresting waves of pleasure and drowning in the blending of emotional and physical sensations. She hid the loudest of her pleasure cries in the pillow, but Victor wasn't prone to that kind of modesty. If there were others on that floor, they certainly heard his final roars of passion and release.

Afterward, Kelly fell into a light doze for awhile, but the strangeness of the bed and the direction she was facing served to keep her from getting the deep sleep she wanted. His body was a solid wall of muscle behind her, his chin resting on top of her head. She tried to move out from under his arm, but his grip tightened.

"Where d'you think you're goin'?" His voice was gravelly.

"I'm on the wrong side of the bed."

"What the fuck does that mean?" The pads of his fingers traced the scabbed scratches on her tummy.

Her shoulders twitched in a little shrug. "Don't know. I always sleep on the other side. I guess I'm used to it." She shifted again, but he held her in place.

"Door's on that side. Stay where you are and go to sleep."

Kelly relaxed, her back into his chest. "'Kay."

"And I ain't gonna wait two hours for you get your ass in gear tomorrow morning." The soft tone and gentle way he squeezed her breast were in sharp contrast to the words themselves. It brought a smile to her lips. She turned her head and brushed her lips over his bicep.

"I'll have one less nightgown to pack anyway."

She felt his chuckle as much as she heard it. "Shut the fuck up."

*~*~*~*~*~*

He'd thought about taking her to the apartment in Columbus, but told himself that the commute between there and the grandparents' place would exhaust the frail. It was a good, serviceable reason that just happened to be complete bullshit. In his mind, Creed divided his properties into places to sleep and wash off the blood in between jobs and places to live for awhile. The frail was part of his life, not work and he would be goddamned if he was going to bring her across that line.

The grandparents lived in a scenic, rural area. It didn't take much to find a vacation cottage on the edge of a small lake. The agent told him that normally it was only rented out in the summer, but swore that it was livable in the winter as well. Looking around the single cold, room he wasn't at all sure what that pushy bitch had meant by 'livable'.

"It's not that bad," Kelly said. Fucking frail could damn near read his mind.

He walked over to the wide bed. Like all the other furniture, it was made out of polished logs. At least it felt as solid as it looked, and the linens had been changed. She started to pace around in the rustic room. "Yeah, well, I guess it'll be alright for a few days."

"Give me the keys, I'll start bringing stuff in."

"Don't' bother." He got up started opening cabinets. "I'll get it after we get back."

"I thought it would be nice to have things put away when we got back tonight-"

"And how long's that gonna take you? Ten minutes?" She was being weird as hell.

"True, but we need groceries for breakfast anyway. With putting those away-"

"We gotta go through town anyway, we'll eat at the diner tomorrow morning. What the fuck is wrong with you? You haven't stood still since we got in the door."

"Nothing." The answer was too quick and too decisive.

"All this time and you're still gonna try lying to me?" He sat on the arm of the sofa and caught her wrist when she walked by. He made her stand still between his legs. She looked at the threadbare rug under the coffee table as if she was fascinated by the southwestern style pattern.

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "We can stand here all fucking night and you know that's gonna piss me off, or you can tell me what's wrong with you."

Her lips moved as if whatever words she was considering left a shitty taste in her mouth. He let his claws bite into her wrist just enough to sting.

"I'm not what they want."

He groaned. "Frail-"

"It's true."

"They tell you that?"

"Well no, but-"

"Then what they fuck are we standing around here for?" he asked.

"Because every time we talk they act like everything I'm saying is wrong."

"Look, I don't know anything about all that family shit and I ain't even gonna try to get into your head on this one. You don't want them, they don't want you, we go back to Maine." He shrugged and looked away. "Maybe out to Washington state if you wanna take a look at some mountains for awhile. Either way, leaving now is pretty fucking cowardly if you ask me."

She opened her mouth again, but his phone rang before she could say anything. He checked the number.

"Your grandfather." He held it up so that she could see the number. "You wanna go or you wanna run away?"

She shrugged. "Stupid to come all this way and not even say hello."

He answered the phone and let her go. "Creed."

*~*~*~*~*~*

At a little after seven-thirty, they pulled into the yard of a neat, white farmhouse with a wrap-around porch. Kelly could hear her heart pounding in her ears as the car moved slowly down the rutted driveway. An outdoor light came on, illuminating the frozen dirt. He stopped in front of a brick walkway.

"Go on."

She looked at him, suddenly terrified. "You're coming aren't you?"

"After awhile. Too fucking cold to sit out here all night. 'Sides, it ain't me they wanna see."

Kelly still hesitated. He grasped her wrist and nipped the tender inside, leaving a bright red scratch. It was a strangely comforting gesture. She gripped his hand and managed a little smile.

He released her wrist. "Go."

Kelly got out and walked around the back of the car. Halfway up the walk, the porchlight came on. The nervousness of a few minutes ago melted away and she started to walk more quickly. As soon as her feet hit the wooden stairs the door opened and a couple stepped out onto the cold porch.

"Kelly?" The woman stepped forward.

"Granna?" She smiled.

"Thank God." The older woman pulled Kelly into her arms. Her grandfather embraced both women. Kelly was fighting tears. Her grandmother was letting them fall.

Her grandfather was the first one to regain his composure. "Come inside, it's freezing out here." His voice was thick with emotion.

Kelly was reluctant to let go of either one of them. She kept one arm around her grandmother, her grandfather's hand was on her shoulder, leading them both into the warm, yellow and white kitchen.

As soon as they were inside, both of them stepped back and looked at Kelly. The years of separation seemed harder on the older couple than she would have thought. Wrinkles reached out from around the corners of eyes and mouths; hers were brown, his were blue-green seaglass like Kelly's. Hair had turned from salt and pepper to nearly white. Her grandfather's had thinned, her grandmother wore hers shorter than Kelly remembered.

Words weren't wide enough or deep enough to convey or encompass all of emotion in that cheery room, so none were exchanged. The soft ticking of the garishly ornate cuckoo clock over the kitchen sink was the only sound in the room. Her grandmother reached out and stroked Kelly's cheek.

"I never thought I'd see you again," she said.

Kelly smiled. "I was sure I'd never see you again either. Victor-"

"Is he here with you?" her grandfather asked.

"He's outside. I think he wanted to give us a few minutes." Kelly said.

"I should-"

"Can't we have a little time to ourselves?" her grandmother asked.

Kelly was shocked and angry. "He saved my life, Granna."

"I know he helped you-"

"It was more than that."

"Kelly, let me take your coat." Her grandfather interjected. "You can sit down and tell us about it."

Kelly let him take her coat, but she watched the nervous tension in his jaw and shoulders. "You already know."

"I know the way Victor told it." He sat down. Kelly sat too. "I figure he wasn't there for all of it."

"She doesn't want to talk about it." Her grandmother turned away and started fussing with a kettle and mugs for tea.

"Stan sent me to live with a man named Roland Dawes." Kelly didn't want to talk about it any more than either of them wanted to hear about it. She hoped a sanitized version would be enough. "Roland investigated sites for new CoH chapters, and I guess that Stan thought that once I got into doing something 'important' I would settle down. It didn't exactly work though." She tried to force a smile.

"So you ran away." Granna glanced over her shoulder.

"Kind of. Dawes was living in a shack in the middle of nowhere, probably so he could observe and be invisible. When I ran I was in the middle of the woods, in the snow. I was cold and running and I slipped and hit my head. I happened to be on Victor's land and he found me laying unconscious in the snow."

Her grandfather was watching her eyes. He knew that wasn't the whole story. She held his gaze for a long moment.

He smiled a little and took her hand. "Damn good thing he was there."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed checked his watch and yawned. It had been fifteen minutes since she went in, all the kissing and crying must be over by now. He got out of the car and stretched. There was a reason he was glad he didn't have a family. He'd thought about getting the fuck out of Dodge all together. Leaving her stuff on the porch and driving off to whatever job was next on the list. As soon as he had the thought he knew he was as likely to do that as he was to take up ballet and flower arranging. Didn't mean he knew what the fuck was he going to do in there. Make small talk? Concentrate on not saying 'fuck'? Sit there and try not to look dangerous? No matter what he did, he knew they were gonna hate him. The best he could hope for was that he wouldn't fuck it up for her too.

He'd only taken one step toward the house when his phone vibrated. He checked it and was surprised to see the call was from Link. Now that was out of the ordinary.

"Creed."

"You have got a major security breech going on, amigo." He was chomping on something again.

"What?" He got back in the car. The system was his own design, and the additional bells and whistles weren't exactly commercially available. Someone had to monitor everything and Link could keep his mouth shut.

"You got alarms going off all over your place in Maine. Since you don't know, I take it you're not there."

"Got that right. How long ago and how many?"

"Less than five minutes. Perimeter alarms on the fence went off first."

"How many?" His annoyance was starting to leak through.

"Three to start with. Thanks to your modifications, only one made it over. He made it as far as the back door. Pretty damn determined after watching his friends get fried. Want me to send a clean-up crew out there?"

Creed had a good idea of exactly what they were after, they were just a few days late. "I'll call Conlon."

There was a little silence on the other end of the line. "This about the girl?"

"What girl?"

"C'mon, the girl the PI was looking for-"

Creed growled low and menacing.

The hacker took a deep breath. "Okay, if you're gonna take care of the clean-up I'll just say my goodnights now."

"Smarter than you sound." He ended the call and dialed Conlon.

"Con-"

"You still in Maine?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Get over to the house, there's a mess to clean up." He described the particulars and gave Conlon the new codes. "Find out who they were and who sent them. Call me when you're done."

He didn't wait for an answer. He ended the call and started toward the house. The who was pretty fucking obvious, now he just had to figure out why they were so goddamn determined.


	14. Not Easily Broken

**Hi Everyone!**

**Thank you all for the wonderful comments and the good questions. Maybe some of them will be answered by this little bit of plotty goodness. **

**Nothing more to say really....just....enjoy and let me know what you think. :)**

**psyche b.**

14. Not Easily Broken

Creed stood in front of a wall of framed photos in Joe's den and worked on his third beer. The frail and her grandmother were on some kind of tour of the house. The old lady had looked at him like he was shit stuck to the bottom of her shoe. He was used to that, he could see the hurt and anger flicker across the frail's face. He couldn't say he understood that, but it had pissed him off to see her so upset. In that moment he had been tempted to take her back out to the car and head out to Washington state without another word to either one of them.

"They were always like that." Joe was standing behind him.

"What're you talking about?" He was studying the pictures of the frail. Her hair was redder, but he couldn't mistake those eyes.

"Anna and Kelly. It's never been easy between them. She's too much like her father." Creed heard him sit down.

"What the fuck does the mean?" Creed scanned the images on the wall. The frail and a man who looked like a younger version of Joe were in most of them. The grandmother was in some. There were a few pictures of a baby dressed in blue. The mother was conspicuously absent.

"Means Carl and Kelly prefer the ugly truth to a pretty fairy tale. Anna only knows how to function in the fairy tale."

Creed turned and studied the old man for a minute. A slow smile spread across his lips. "You never told her what you did."

Joe wouldn't meet his eyes. "Have you told Kelly?"

"Didn't tell her anything specific. She guessed at the big picture."

The old man gave a short laugh. "Shouldn't be surprised by that."

Creed watched the old man pick at the label on the beer bottle. "What?"

"What really happened when you found her?"

Creed sat down and studied the wrinkled face. "What'd she say?"

"Which time? First she said you found her wandering, then she said you found her unconscious. Both times she said she ran away, but I know there was more to it than that."

Creed smiled a little. "She's a shitty liar. I don't know much about what happened before I found her. She figures Stan gave her to Dawes-"

"Gave her to him?"

"That ain't part of what I know, just what she told me. Stan gave her to Dawes because he figured Dawes would kill her or break her. Didn't come close to breaking her, but he goddamn near succeeded in killing her. I guess neither of them planned on her being the tough little thing that she is. I happened to be in the right place at the right time to see her running and him chasing after her with a gun. She fell, hit her head on a rock and knocked herself out. He took a shot at me, I killed him, and brought her back to my place." He swallowed the last of his beer.

"But she was alright?" He was grasping at straws.

"Fuck no. She was filthy, bruised everywhere, cut up, bloody. So emaciated I could count her bones. 'F I'd left her there, Stan would've got his wish." It made him sick to remember it. Joe turned away and looked at the wall. He could smell the anger rolling off the old man.

"He rape her?" he asked finally.

"No."

"Not that she told you, or-"

"Just trust me on that one." He got up and walked back to the wall of birthday parties, holidays and ordinary pleasures on beaches and in parks. He had to look at something while he waited for the question to come. Finally, he couldn't stand the waiting. "You gonna ask if I did?"

"I've seen what you do to women. If you had used her that way she wouldn't have lived long enough to get back here, let alone look as good as she does."

He gave the old man a sidelong glance and then turned back to the photos. "She's still too damn skinny. Guess she always has been though."

What the fuck was taking Conlon so long?

*~*~*~*~*~*

The furniture was mostly different. The wallpaper patterns and paint colors were different. The layout of the rooms was different. The longer Kelly spent in the house though, the more she started remembering the little things that surrounded her. China birds, a robin and a blue jay, sat on handmade doilies on the coffee table. The last time she'd seen them, they'd been on top of a console television. The photo of her father in his Army uniform hung on the living room wall, his serious expression frozen in time. A statue of the Virgin Mary that had occupied a small table in the upstairs hall now looked out over the dining room. Two votive candles stood in red glass holders in front of the blue and white figure.

"I lit them every night. One for you, one for Cody." The older woman brushed at imaginary dust. "He probably doesn't even remember us anymore."

Kelly smiled slightly. "When we were alone I would tell him about you and Grandpa, and Daddy."

"Your mother didn't do that?"

Kelly shook her head and looked at the china in the cabinet. The ivory colored china with intricate gold designs brought back memories of holiday feasts and Sunday dinners. "You know how mom is. She gave up all rights to think for herself when she married Stan."

"Kelly, she's still your mother-"

"She's the woman who gave birth to Cody and I. Being a mother takes more than that." Kelly walked into the living room, her arms crossed across her stomach, cradling the pain of the statement. She stopped in front of her father's picture. Her grandmother followed.

"You know she's never been a strong woman. She was crushed after-"

"And we weren't?"

"A shocking accident like that-"

"It wasn't an accident. It was a drunk who was driving on a suspended license. The whole thing was unfair and stupid and Cody and I needed the one parent we had left." Kelly's voice cracked. She dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand. Her grandmother stroked her back.

"Your hair is the same color has his." Her voice trembled. Even with the intervening years, the wound was still too fresh and the topic still too painful. Kelly didn't push it.

"Is it?" She looked more closely at the photograph, studying the little bit of hair visible at the margins of the hat her father wore. "It's been so long since I've seen a picture of him."

Her grandmother ignored the last part of that statement. "It is. When you were born you had the reddest hair I'd ever seen on anyone." She laughed softly. Kelly managed a little smile. "As you got older it got darker and darker and I always wondered if you'd keep any of that red."

Kelly smiled a little. "I just got it back."

"Got it back? Is that a dye?" Her grandmother started moving locks Kelly's hair, studying it in the light.

"No, but stress can do awful things to a person." Kelly forced a little smile. "The house is bigger than I expected."

"I wasn't too happy about moving, I certainly wasn't about to give up the things I love. Come upstairs, I'll show you your room." She took Kelly's hand, but Kelly didn't move.

"Granna-"

"You have to stay somewhere while you're here."

"Victor and I have a place."

"Then let him stay there." Her grip was tightening. Something close to anger was spreading across her forehead.

"Before we left to come here Victor was gone on business for a week and a half. I hardly slept when we were apart. I'm not going to-"

"You're sleeping with him?" Shock and hurt vied for dominance on her face. "Did he...force you?"

"Of course not." Kelly kissed her grandmother's cheek. "Do you think I'd want to stay with him if he had?"

"That's why your neck is all bruised and cut up?" The anger was back. Kelly wondered why she always managed to say the wrong thing.

Kelly sighed. "Granna, those marks have nothing to do with anger or force."

Her grandmother stepped back from Kelly, as if Kelly had become a stranger to her. That look made her heart hurt.

"Frail?" His loud voice sounded as though it was coming from the kitchen.

"In the living room." Kelly was sure that he'd hear the tremor in her voice. She hoped he would decide that it was one of those things he'd rather not get involved in.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed glanced over at the frail. She had nodded off as soon as they'd pulled out of the driveway. Her shoes were off, her knees drawn up as if sheltering herself from something. The stink of anger, anxiety, and disgust had reached all the way into the den. It turned his stomach and it pissed him off because as soon as he got into the living room he could see that the frail blamed herself for all of it. If it had been up to him, he'd have grabbed her and taken off right then and there. The car was already packed. Course that would have upset her too. She was a fucking pain in the ass. A sweet smelling pain in the ass who'd probably kiss him and fall asleep with her head on his chest later.

The phone on his belt vibrated. He didn't have to check the number, he knew who it would be. He glanced over at the frail, then answered. "Creed." His voice was subdued.

"Mess is taken care of."

"And?"

"And I'm still working on the rest. I got names and ages from the ID in their wallets-"

"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Nope. How they were dressed, tattoos, I'd say all three were FoH, or wanted to be."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning from their age and the dumbass way they went about this whole thing makes me think they had no idea what they were getting into."

"And they picked me at random?" Creed believed that like he believed pink elephants were about to fly out of his ass.

"Haven't gotten that far yet, but if that's true it would be a hell of a big coincidence. I've never been a big believer in that kind of coincidence. Just can't figure out why anybody would bother sending these three." Conlon's reputation for doing a job quickly and well seemed to be well-deserved.

He glanced over at the frail. She was starting to stir. "Figure it out." He ended the call.

"What's wrong?" Her words slurred with sleep.

"Nothing. We'll be there in a few minutes." He could feel her looking at him. "What?"

She shook her head and looked away. "I'm sorry about Granna. Once she gets to know you-"

"Don't even bother, frail. You know it ain't true."

"Doesn't make it right." She put her shoes on again.

"Makes it normal." He had questions for her, but he wanted more information before he asked.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly fired the nine millimeter handgun at a human-shaped paper target set up on bales of hay against a wooded berm. For the sixth time, she missed completely. The sound of the shot echoed off the frigid clearing about a mile from the house. She lowered the gun and sighed.

"I must be doing something wrong. I can't even hit the hay bales."

"This is the first time you've tried."

She handed him the gun and poured her a cup of coffee from the thermos. He leaned back against a rock, she sat on a stump. "Was Daddy a good shot?"

"Yeah, he was. It took him awhile to get the knack for a handgun, though. I taught him how to shoot a rifle when he was ten so he had more experience with it."

"Hunting?"

"No. Targets mostly. He won a couple of marksmanship medals when he was fifteen or sixteen. Your granna probably still has them packed away somewhere." He studied her for a minute. "That isn't what you want to ask, is it?"

"No." She sighed. "Victor thinks he might be able to get Cody away from Stan."

He hesitated. "How?"

She looked at him for a long moment. "You don't really need the answer to that question, do you?"

He studied her face, then looked down into his coffee cup. "Is it that obvious?"

"No, but it just seemed like there was more between you two than one recent meeting. You...worked with him?"

He nodded slightly. "A couple of times, yes."

"And Daddy?"

"Kelly-"

"After everything I've been through, what do you think you're protecting me from?"

He studied her for a minute, then nodded. "He got out when you were three weeks old because he wanted you to be proud of him. He wanted to be around..." He looked away and took a deep breath. "When he started Demmer Security it was all legit and above board."

"Granna doesn't know, does she?"

The old man smiled a little. "You see everything, just like he did. No, you know your grandmother needs her illusions."

She nodded. "Would she question it if Cody got out?"

"Hard to tell. It's likely that it's one of those things she'd be willing to take on faith, as long as she got to see him."

"Maybe she'll get to see a lot of him." She couldn't meet his eyes as she said it.

He looked at her, the surprise written on his face. "Are you sure about that? I didn't think you'd want to be separated from him again."

"I don't, but I don't think I can be what he needs."

"Kelly-"

"It's true." Kelly felt the words catch in her throat. This was the right thing to do, she just hadn't thought it would be this hard. "Cody needs parents. I knew how to protect him from Stan most of the time, but I don't know how to be a parent. Cody hates Stan, but CoH and that philosophy is all he knows. He believes in it. Bringing him into Victor's house..."

"I see what you mean. Cody's always got a home here, you do too. You know that."

Kelly looked at him sharply. "I'm not-"

"I'm not trying to pressure you, just restating the obvious." He smiled a little. "Come on, let's try a few more."

She smiled. "Maybe I'll get to hit the target once."

Kelly tried a few more shots, but still couldn't manage to hit anything. "I think this is just waste of time."

"No it ain't." Kelly turned to see Victor walking through the trees. "Your stance is fucked up and you're flinching as you pull the trigger, but you can fix that."

"How long have you been there?" Kelly felt a deep blush color her cheeks, though she couldn't understand why.

He grinned a little. "Long enough to see that you can't hit the broadside of a barn."

Kelly smiled. "So you came out here to tease me?"

He shrugged. "There was nothing on TV."

"I think I'm going to head back to the house." Her grandfather pulled on his down vest. "I'll leave you the thermos." He kissed Kelly's cheek and walked back toward the trail.

"Get in position again." He waited until she took aim, then stood close behind her. "This your idea, or your grandfather's?"

"Kinda both. I used to bug him to teach me. With everything going on, I guess he thought it was the right time. I was glad to get to talk to him without Granna for a few minutes anyway."

He put his hand on the front of her right hip. "Pull your leg back a little more." Kelly shifted her leg until he stopped her with his hand. He moved his hand onto her back. "Shift your weight forward." Again, Kelly moved and he stopped her when she was in the position he wanted. "Feel different?"

"It does." She was surprised. The changes seemed so minor.

"Remember it. You talk to him about your brother? Take a higher grip."

She shifted her hands. "Yeah. I thought Granna would have too many questions I wouldn't know how to answer. He's been figuring out what to tell her longer than I have."

"Tighten your grip with your thumb down."

"Isn't that what I'm doing?" Kelly looked at her hands.

"Nope. When you grip it like you're milking a cow your other fingers move when you squeeze the trigger and it fucks up your shot. You don't need anything else fucking with your aim."

Kelly shifted her hands. "Is that what you mean?"

"It's better. What'd Joe say?"

"That Cody has a home here for as long as he needs one."

"Good. Look at your front sight, take a deep breath, let it out, and squeeze the trigger."

Kelly did what he said, expecting to miss again. To her surprise, she hit the target's shoulder.

"Better. Do it again." He stepped back from her.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed tossed his newspaper aside and shifted around on the couch for the fourth time. Finally, he gave up and stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace. Whoever the bastard was who designed that shit had missed his calling as a torturer. He stared up at the ceiling and listened to the water running in the closet of a bathroom. The frail was washing off the stink of the latest fight with the old lady. That pissed him off. So did the fact that he hadn't heard from Conlon all fucking day.

Any way he turned it around, he came back to Stan. Didn't mean it made any goddamn sense. He could see how she would piss Stan off. He could see how her disappearance might be embarrassing to a guy in his new position, and that making a show of trying to get her back would be the thing to do. Actually trying – especially this way – was over the top for a show of desired family unity. Creed's phone vibrated. He checked the number and answered.

"About fuckin' time."

"Getting to the bottom of ten tons of manure would have been easier and I'm not there yet."

He growled. "Well?"

"Stan is itching to get your girl back. It doesn't make any sense, he's got the resources to make a serious play, but for some reason he's going the dumbass route."

"You mean someone with enough balls to actually show up while I'm within a hundred miles?"

"That too. I found out that the Three Stooges were supposed to be there three days earlier, but they were guests of the local sheriff."

Creed groaned. "You're sure they were hired by Stan?"

"I had to follow a string of third parties, but it's all leading back to him. Haven't been able to find the one who really knows anything though. There are a few more layers to go through first." He heard Conlon take a deep breath. "This smells wrong."

He heard the shower stop. "Keep digging." He ended the call and waited. Conlon was right. The whole thing was fucked up and before he could figure it out, he needed the whole story. She had to be keeping something from him, and one of the things he was good at was extracting the information he wanted. So why the fuck did thinking about it made his chest tighten?

The frail came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. She was back to wearing his shirts. He liked seeing her new curves in lace and silk, but she looked so much more fuckable in cotton or flannel. She smiled at him as she went by, carrying the clothes she'd been wearing that day. He watched her fuss around with separating dirty clothes and trying to decide between a book and her knitting. When she turned toward the wall, he came up on her swiftly and silently. When she turned, he was only a few inches away from her. She gasped and dropped the book in her hands.

"What-"

"Tell me about Stan." His tone was deliberately harsh, and it sent a tremor through her.

"I've told you all I know about him." Her voice quivered.

Pulses of anxiety came off of her with every heartbeat. "Not everything."

She shook her head. "I don't know-"

"Bullshit!" He watched her flinch and start to tremble. "Someone tried to break into the house in Maine. Someone he hired. What the fuck do you have on him?"

"Nothing!" She was getting angry and she tried to push past him. That pissed him off.

He shoved her back into the wall, her head made contact with a hard thump. She groaned and he spun her around, pulling her arm up behind her again, hard enough to cause pain, not hard enough to injure. Yet. "You struggle, I break it. You lie, I break it. You piss me off more than I already am, I'll be nice and tear it out of the socket. You understand me?"

"Y-yes." He could smell her tears and her terror. The little whimpers she was trying to swallow made something inside him ache. He pushed it away.

"Good. Then we're gonna start again. What haven't you told me?"

Tears flowed more freely. He felt her body go limp, as if resigned. "All I know is how he treated Cody, my mother and me."

His hand tightened on her wrist. "Then why is he coming after you this hard?"

"I don't know!" She sounded desperate, but there was no deception in it.

"What about CoH business. You said Dawes was gathering information."

"Dawes hadn't gotten very far. Just basics that anyone who lived in the area would know. Victor, please, I wouldn't keep something like that from you." The little sob at the end of her statement brought back that unaccustomed ache, and it was stronger than before.

"Doesn't make sense, frail."

"I know that!" Another choked sob. "If you're going to break it, just do it an get it over with because I don't know what else to say."

He pushed a little further, she cried out. He could feel the strain on the joint. "Where'd he work?"

She took several deep, gasping breaths. "H-his study, but we weren't even allowed near the door while he was in there. It had the only phone and the only computer in the house. Unless he told us something, we didn't..." As much pain as he knew she was in, something changed in her body. "Oh God."

He eased the pressure slowly. That drew a fresh flow of tears as blood rushed in to strained flesh. "What?" His voice was still harsh.

"The basement. There was an air duct. I could hear everything he said." Her voice trembled.

He knew the realization was as new to her as it was to him. He lowered her arm, but kept her pinned to the wall with his forearm on her upper back.

"What did you hear?"

"I don't know."

He growled. "Frail-"

"I only listened so I could keep my sanity. I used it to get a sense of what time it was and what day it was. I had no idea what was important and what wasn't. I didn't even understand half of it." She was shaking. "I'm so sorry." She was swallowing her sobs. "I shouldn't have dragged you into any of this-"

He lowered his arm, but kept her between his body and the wall. She flinched when he stroked her shoulder. The fear rolled off of her in waves. Diffuse ache turned to cutting pain that tore through his chest. He waited until she was still, then started squeezing and rubbing carefully. Her tremors eased slowly. "He's gonna be sorry." He stepped away from her. "Get some sleep."

He turned and left quickly before she could say anything.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly had learned the value of frozen peas when she was eight years old and broke her wrist while trying to skateboard down a particularly steep hill near her house. Her mother had dithered between hyperventilating and lecturing. Her father had wrapped a bag of frozen peas around her wrist and took her to the hospital. Since coming to live with Victor, she made sure that there were always several bags in the freezer.

She got out of bed and refroze her current ice pack and got some ibuprofen instead. She curled up in bed in the dimly lit cabin. Victor had been gone for hours. She'd been trying to remember what she'd heard, and what about it could have been so important. Everything was running together. Lunch dates made with disembodied voices blended with confessions of marital infidelity and well-practiced sermons. None of it seemed important enough to make it dangerous or even interesting to anyone else.

She heard the door open and Victor sit heavily on the floor. Next, she heard him set a bottle down. It sounded too big to be a beer bottle. After a few minutes of silence, she got up and approached him. An empty bottle of Jack Daniel's sat on the stone fireplace surround. She knew it had been nearly full when he left.

"Thought you were sleeping." He didn't turn to look at her.

"I couldn't." She moved closer and saw dried blood around and underneath his claws.

"'Cause of your arm?"

"No. Because I can't think of anything I know that's so terrible."

He looked over his shoulder at her, then moved over. She sat next to him and leaned against his arm. Kelly closed her eyes and took in the smell of wood smoke, alcohol, cold night air and the baser scents of blood and sweat. It was uniquely him, and the most comforting thing she could think of at that moment. He leaned slightly into her.

"Did you really think I would lie to you about this?" Her voice was soft.

"Frail, people been lyin' to me for as long as I can remember for more reasons than I can count. Half the time I think it was just for the hell of it. A long time ago I figured out the quickest way to get the truth and stuck with it." He stared at the embers of the fire. "'F you want, I'll take you to Joe's house."

"I don't want to go there." She took his hand, ignoring the gore. "I want to go to bed. With you."

"I could've-"

"Did you want to?"

He looked at her quickly, his eyes locked on hers. She noticed that there were flecks of dried blood on his chin and neck too. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Broken frail ain't no good to me."


	15. Bruises

**Hi Everyone!**

**First of all, a huge THANK YOU to all of you who have commented, added this story to your alerts, and to those who have been following it, even though I haven't been able to update as often as I would like. Seeing those notifications always makes my day, and lets me know that I'm doing an okay job with this story.**

**I hope you continue to enjoy and continue to let me know!**

**psyche b.**

15. Bruises

Dawn was starting to creep into the single room, making the solid shapes of furniture gray and hazy. The frail had finally fallen asleep half an hour before, his hand was tangled in her hair, her head resting on his chest. He knew she wasn't deeply asleep yet, so he stayed still. Her arm was draped over him. Even in the near-dark, he could tell that her shoulder was swollen and he could just about make out the slight shadow of a deep bruise under the skin. There was a much darker, much more prominent mark in the shape of his hand just above her wrist.

For once, he didn't have to wonder what Jimmy or Wilson would have said or done. Wilson would have come back in with overly sincere apologies and promises never to do it again. It would have been complete bullshit and she would have seen right through it. Jimmy would have run. Not a goodbye, not a thanks for all the good fucking, nothing. Either way, the frail would have walked away and never looked back.

Whatever he'd said, or hadn't said, or implied or whatever seemed to be enough for her anyway. He'd never apologized for anything in his life, so he didn't know how that little speech was supposed to go. He couldn't say he knew what guilt felt like. He couldn't even say he'd never do it again because they both knew that he would. What the fuck did that leave? 'It ain't like I did it in front of people.' 'I could've broken it when you told me to, be glad I didn't.' 'You can still use it.' She hadn't seemed to need more and he didn't really feel like trying to come up with something they both knew was bullshit.

She struggled a little, tugging at blankets awkwardly. He stopped her hand and pulled the covers up around her shoulders. She murmured something and settled again. Half of him thought she was fucking stupid for trusting him at all...but only half of him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly woke slowly. She was on her side, the hair on his chest was tickling her nose. His heavy arm was resting around her waist. She moved her head slightly, but kept the rest of her body still. Even though she was far less skilled at telling the time by the quality of light in the room, she could tell it was later than usual. Kelly bit her lower lip and moved her arm slightly, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain that shot out from her shoulder. For a moment, she bit her lip to hold back the little cry of pain. After the sharpness of it abated to a pounding ache, she started to squirm out from under his arm.

His low growl was accompanied by his claws digging into her bottom. She smiled and kissed the middle of his chest softly. "Bathroom." She murmured.

"Come back." The growl was still in his voice. He hadn't eased the pressure on her skin.

"It's late."

"Fuck what time it is. You'll come back or I ain't lettin' you go to start with." His claws bit just a little deeper. Any further and he'd draw blood. The sensation got Kelly's heart beating faster in a good way.

She smiled. "Where else would I go?" She moved to kiss him and he nipped her lower lip.

He pushed her away. "Hurry up."

She wrapped his shirt around herself again and trotted across the room. Every movement jostled her arm and that made each step painful. At least behind the closed door of the bathroom she could banish some of the painful stiffness without trying to hide her pained expression from Victor. Without a doubt, he knew she was in pain, broadcasting it felt like an accusation and a sign of weakness.

By the time she came back out again, she was able to move more freely. As soon as the Ibuprofen kicked in she would be able to manage pretty much like nothing had happened at all. In a few days, she wouldn't need as many pills. After a week or so it would be like nothing had happened. At least, if this was like the last time, that's what would happen.

She took off the shirt before getting into bed again. As soon as she moved close, Kelly could feel his erection pressing into her tummy.

"No wonder you wanted me to come back." She smiled and let her fingers trail over the familiar contours of his thickly muscled stomach.

"Whatcha think you're doin'?" He bumped his head against hers. Something that might have been a growl or a purr vibrated through his chest.

"Thought it was kind of obvious." She pushed back against his forehead.

"Obvious you forgot your fucking manners." He nipped her ear.

Kelly arched against him, his hardness rubbing against her tummy. "But you're so tempting."

He gave a short laugh. "People've called me a lot of different things, but never tempting."

"So? Does that mean it's not true?" Her thumb stroked the front of his hip, her lips teased his.

A low growl. The tip of claws poked into the soft tissue of her breast sending little jolts of pleasure chasing down over her tummy to the place between her legs. "So you gonna tease me all fuckin' morning?"

She smiled and drew her fingertips over the underside of his shaft, tracing the thick veins. It pulsed under her light touch. Kelly moaned and wrapped her hand around it, stroking slowly. For a long moment they moved together in a slow dance of advance and retreat. He growled and bent his head back, his fangs bared. She leaned forward and let her nose stroke down the front of his throat, her lips not making contact with his skin until they were below his collarbone.

His hand dug into her hair. Kelly read the signal and presented her throat. She had no illusions about the potentially deadly outcome of such complete trust. Logic never mattered in those moments. Her grip around his shaft tightened when he nipped at the exposed, tender flesh. He growled and his fangs pressed in just a little more. Anxiety shot through her, but it was the kind of anxiety that warmed her and generated pleasant dreams. Her hips arched toward his.

He chuckled. "Something you want, frail?" The rough surface of his tongue soothed the indentations in her skin.

"You-" Her phone started to ring. This time his growl was clearly angry.

"Let it ring."

"It's probably Granna." She reached toward the nightstand, but he grabbed her hand.

"So what? She can't wait awhile?" He bit her nipple hard enough to bring a yelp of pained surprise.

"It's late. If I don't answer-" She moaned when his tongue swept over the tender bud. Her back arched. "If I don't answer she'll just keep on calling."

"Make it quick." He let go of her hand.

She checked the number. "Hello, Granna."

He pulled the covers off of her, leaving her completely exposed. She blushed crimson.

"Where are you?" Her grandmother asked.

"What do you mean? We're at the cabin, where else would we be?" His tongue started teasing over her right nipple. Kelly bit down on her lower lip to stifle the moan.

"It's nearly ten." The old woman said, as if that explained everything. Victor placed a line of sharp nips down over her stomach. Kelly flinched and trembled with each one.

_Stop, _Kelly mouthed silently. "I know that. We were up late last night and we slept in a little this morning."

He grinned up at her and stroked one claw down her thigh. She shook her head and pressed her legs together. He clucked his tongue and pushed her knees apart, holding them wide and taking great care to study her most intimate places.

"What kept you up so late? You're not sick are you?"

Kelly's fingers dug into the bed and her back arched when his tongue swept along her slick slit. She looked at him pleadingly.

"No, I'm fine. We'll be there after lunch." There were tears in her eyes from holding back.

He opened her wider, his tongue finding the little bundle of nerve endings. The soft surface and rough surface flickered against it alternately.

"Are you sure? It sounds like your voice is trembling."

She could see the grin in his eyes. That talented tongue pushed her further.

"It must be the connection. I'll see you in a little while."

"But-" Kelly ended the call before her grandmother could ask anything else.

"Oh God that was not fair." She pressed against his mouth, hungry for the release he'd silently promised.

"Got you off the phone, didn't it?" He grinned at her, his lips and tongue playing over her inner thighs.

"Well don't stop now."

"Givin' me orders, frail?"

"_Please_ don't stop now."

"What're you gonna do for me?" A tongue flickered over her opening. It was almost enough and thoroughly unbearable all at the same time.

She whimpered, tears streamed down her cheeks. "Anything, you know that."

His chuckle slid over her like warm honey. "Sometime I'm gonna have to teach you just how much 'anything' is." He teased her with a knuckle. "Sometime when I ain't itching to fuck you."

He was inside her quickly, her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him in deeper while her hands wandered over his chest.

He grasped her uninjured wrist and wrapped her hand around one of the polished spindles of the headboard. Kelly tried, but the pain of raising her injured arm eclipsed the pleasure of having him inside her. As always, he read her reaction. He laced his fingers with hers and held it next to her at a comfortable angle. The claws on his other hand traced bright red scratches down over her breasts and ribs while his hips moved in a forceful rhythm.

The combination of stinging pain and intense pleasure drove her quickly into her release. Her hips met his, her cries mixed with his growls, her grip on the headboard was all that kept her connected to the world outside her own body. By the time his roar rattled the windows in the small cabin, Kelly's pleasure had crested twice. She reached for him when he pulled away.

He laughed and nipped the heel of her hand. "Still hungry for my cock?"

Kelly's head spun when he turned her on her side. She yelped when he pushed inside her again.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The frail wasn't sleeping, but she was quiet and relaxed, her back against his chest. Her fingers were laced with his. He swept his tongue over a scratch on her shoulder. It was the only one that was still oozing. Most of the bright red lines had faded to pink trails.

She squirmed. "'S only a scratch."

"Still bleeding." He'd grown to appreciate tenderness, but he still loved the taste of her blood just as much as he loved the taste of her pussy.

"'Cause you're picking at it." He could hear a smile in her voice, but the scent of pain teased his sensitive nose.

"Goddamn you have the unparalleled capacity to be a pain in my ass." He held her still, but applied more careful pressure. She trembled, but stopped struggling.

For a few minutes she was still, her body molded to his. If anyone had asked, he would have said he was keeping her close so he could fuck her without having to chase her down. In the beginning that was the only part of it that made any sense to him. There had always been more to it though. She turned and snuggled into his chest, his arms tightened around her. It still amazed him how such a small gesture could make him feel so fucking powerful, but it did. He could terrify just about anyone into doing pretty much anything that he wanted, and that had been enough for decades.

Until he didn't have to terrify her into doing what he wanted. Not just in bed, though he still loved fucking her. It was all the little shit she did that he pretended not to notice. All the times she smiled at him, even after she knew what he was. All the times he'd hurt her, and, after the storm of his anger had passed, she'd settled down next to him like always. The way she didn't flinch away from him, even when his dark moods made hiding safer. The way he could see trust in her eyes, even when he could smell anxiety on her skin. None of those things could be commanded or forced. He hadn't known he'd want any of them. Not until they fell into his lap in a bruised and bloody package that still managed to be full of piss and vinegar.

Didn't change how he felt about the rest of the world. He still loved the feeling of digging his claws into soft flesh, feeling warm blood sliding down his skin in thick rivulets. He loved the sound of a begging victim. Whether it was for mercy, for life or for death, it all had the same chords of desperation, agony and terror. The scents added texture and depth to the rest. Blood, fear, anger and everything that made up a living being coalesced into a heady perfume of passionate agony. To a cold bastard like him, it was symphonically orgasmic. The feeling of power was different – more fleeting – but it completed the feeling she gave him. Or she completed it, he had no fucking idea which way that went but he guessed it didn't matter much either.

She was sleeping now, a little smile on her lips. Much as he wanted to spend the day in bed with her curled up against him, he had shit to get ready. He tugged on her hair carefully, tilting her head so that his lips could reach hers. She sighed and parted her lips, her tongue stroking his. It was almost as good as fucking her. When he broke the contact she smiled at him.

"My Prince Charming waking me with a kiss?"

He smirked. "More like your Feral Godfather telling you to get your ass up because he's hungry."

She laughed and brushed her lips over his collarbone. "I'll get you some lunch and take a shower."

"Nah. We'll eat on the way through town." He gave her a shove, being careful of her shoulder.

Kelly got up and pulled his shirt around herself, she glanced over her shoulder. "We're leaving soon, aren't we?"

"Tomorrow night. You gonna bawl?"

She smiled a little. "Probably, at least for a few minutes. I think Granna and I probably get along better from a distance, though." She got up and started toward the bathroom.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Why'd you do it?" Joe asked. He and Creed were sitting in the kitchen while the frail and her grandmother were in the living room. Occasional laughter drifted out to them, broken by the murmur of conversation.

Creed looked at him through narrowed eyes. "The fuck're you talking about?"

"Her arm. She's too proud to let it show, but I can tell she's in pain. If it'd been an accident, she would've said something."

He could smell the old man's anger. "She didn't tell you all the other shit that was going on either."

"No." Joe watched Creed warily.

"Stan's been working overtime to be a pain in the ass." Creed told the story, using only the details that the frail already knew.

Joe watched him. Creed could smell the anger spiking again, though he figured it was for different reasons.

"When are you getting her out of here?"

Creed gave a half-smile, just enough to bare one fang. "What makes you think I ain't gonna leave her here with you?"

"'Cause I've seen how you look at her." Joe slowly turned the brown beer bottle in front of him. His eyes were still on Creed's though. "For an old man, I have a damn good memory. Last time I saw you, you looked at everybody like prey. Some were closer to the top of that list than others, but everybody was on the list someplace. That hasn't changed for the most part. When you look at her," He shook his head a little, looking for the right words. "She's not on that list. I am. So is Anna, but I tell myself that we're lower down because of Kelly. You'd rather cut off your own balls than leave her here."

A low chuckle rumbled through Creed's chest. "You don't miss a fucking thing either."

He smiled a little. "Where do you think Karl and Kelly got it from?"

"Tomorrow night. I have to finish up some arrangements first."

"Where-"

"I'm not telling you. I haven't told her either."

He nodded. "Probably better that way. I'll start getting Anna used to the idea, hopefully she won't make too much of a scene."

"You're still pissed off." Creed drained the last quarter of the beer in one long swallow.

"You're goddamn right I am. I spent years worrying about her, knowing she was being hurt. She's supposed to be safe now."

The statement brought back the confusion and anger from the night before. He pushed it aside and gave a bored shrugged. "She look scared to you?"

Joe looked away. "No."

"She is safe." He stated firmly. Without another word, he got up and walked out into the cold yard and scented the air. He was tempted to hunt again, but he didn't catch the scent of anything big enough to really put up a fight. Anything too small would only serve to piss him off more. The whole thing with the frail was fucking complicated and he didn't have time to try and figure it out now. He checked his phone and saw that Conlon had called about an hour before.

He dialed the number. It gave him something solid to do with his hands and mind.

"Conlon."

"Creed."

"I figured out why Stan is sending the dumbass brigade after you."

"This I gotta hear." His curiosity was immediately piqued.

"Stan's been traveling in some pretty shady circles."

"Shady how?" Creed stood watching the house. He could see the frail and her grandmother moving around in the kitchen.

"Shady like the kind of characters that hire us."

He growled. "This bastard's got more layers than a fucking onion."

"It's not as solid as I'd like it to be, but it's about as good as I'm going to get. Your girl knows something and whatever that something is, Wilton doesn't want anyone else to know that she knows."

"Think I heard Abbot and Costello do this routine."

"I admit, it sounds crazy. It's the only thing that makes any sense. He's being so damn secretive that he's screwing his objective, he's using fifth-rate talent-"

Creed gave a derisive snort.

"What? I'm being too generous?"

"Goddamn right. You got everything there is to get?"

"Yeah, and thank you for reminding me how little it takes to bribe some people."

"Get the first flight out." He went on to give Conlon instructions for the rest of his part in his plan. The other mutant might figure the rest out, he might not. It didn't matter to Creed, Conlon didn't need to know the rest.

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Hypnocyn."

There was a pause on the line. "The drug?"

Creed rolled his eyes. "No, the fuckin' racehorse."

"Never heard of you bothering to drug anybody, that's all."

He growled. "I can't try something new?"

"Hypnocyn it is."

Creed could see from the body language that the old woman was trying to pick a fight and the frail was doing her best to ignore it. "Good. Lemme know when you land." He ended the call. The old man might be right about the list and his place on it, but the old bitch was pushing her way higher by the minute.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Her grandmother had started as soon as she and Victor walked in the door that morning, drifting between tears and anger. Kelly worked hard at not letting any of it get to her. Leaving would be hard enough, if she accepted even a tenth of the guilt that her grandmother was trying to heap on her, it would be impossible.

She wanted to be with Victor. She knew she belonged with him and she knew that Victor wasn't about to let her go. None of that made it easier to manage the storm of emotions that swirled through her head and her heart. Victor's fits of temper were always frightening, frequently violent and usually resulted in the death of some helpless animal. Once it was over though, it was over. Even if she was the one who had upset him in the first place, once his initial anger was discharged, that was the end of it. Her very existence seemed to offend Stan's sensibilities, but he never made a secret of that and Kelly had never invested any emotional energy into caring what he felt. Her mother had never been one for assigning guilt, she was far more versed in martyrdom.

Difficult as things were between Kelly and her grandmother, it was a relationship that Kelly ached for. Her grandparents were the only family she had and the only connection she had to her father. She just so afraid that she was going to screw it up somehow. Maybe Victor wasn't the only one who bad with all the sentimental bullshit.

"You still haven't explained why you're so set on this." Her grandmother jabbed the knitting needle into the next stitch. The gesture was filled with obvious anger.

Kelly sighed. The thought of having a pleasant final day had evaporated already. She saw her new goal of tolerable slipping away as well. "What more can I say?"

"You can start with something that makes some sense for a change."

"I've been making perfect sense, Granna. You just don't want to hear anything I have to say."

Anger made the old woman's lips nearly vanish. "It isn't right."

"In your opinion-"

"Not just my opinion."

"You've taken a poll?"

"I don't need to."

"Of course not." Kelly started packing her knitting back into her bag.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting ready to leave." It took every ounce of strength she had in her to keep from crying. "I have some things to do before we go." She got up and started for the door.

"You're as stubborn as your father." Her voice cracked. "Have you even stopped to consider what he would think about you living with....with someone like Victor?"

Kelly stopped. "Someone like Victor?" She looked at her grandmother, the old woman looked away. "Tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means."

The old woman was on her feet. "Kelly-"

"I can't believe what I'm hearing." Kelly was stunned.

"You didn't give me a chance to explain."

"After where I've spent the last few years, do you really think I need you to explain?" The anger and hurt made her head spin.

"It's not the same." Her grandmother was speaking quickly. "I'm grateful to Victor for helping you and I certainly don't hold his...nature against him-"

"As long as he remembers his place?" Anger was quickly overtaking hurt.

Her grandmother searched for the right words. "In my day people stayed with their own kind. That doesn't mean there was anything wrong with any of them."

Kelly took a deep breath. "Things change, Granna. It amazes me every day that Victor is willing to put up with how physically fragile I am compared to him, and all the trouble I've caused because of Stan and Dawes and everything that went on before that whole mess. In spite of that though, he never makes me feel like I'm damaged goods. Like none of what came before matters." She shrugged. "I don't pretend to know why he can be that generous, I just count my blessings every day that he is. It's your choice whether you accept that or not, but you're going to have to find a way to live with it." She started toward the door.

"The last time I saw you, you were still sleeping with a teddy bear."

The statement made Kelly turn to look at her grandmother. The older woman her tears streaming down her cheeks.

"The last day you spent with us, you scared me half to death my climbing that big maple tree in the back yard. You just looked at me and said 'I got up here okay, I'll get down okay'."

Kelly smiled a little. "You made Grandpa come up and get me."

"And you were so mad at me." She laughed a little. "At least until I asked you to help me bake those peanut butter chocolate chip cookies you used to love. Then you forgave me."

Kelly laughed a little. "I'm still just as stubborn."

"I know, but I missed everything else. When I see you in my head, you're still that little girl because I don't have any memories of you going to high school, or going on your first date, or your prom. Then you show up on the doorstep and you're a young woman and you've been through so much that I can't even bring myself to think about. I don't know how to reconcile it."

Kelly sat down again. "I don't know either, Granna. I know that I can't go back though."

Her grandmother nodded and wiped at her eyes. "Don't go yet. You said you weren't going to leave until six, we still have an hour."

She swiped at her eyes. There was too much emotional tension gathered in the room, and neither she nor her grandmother could do anything more to really resolve it at that moment. Kelly smiled a little. "You said you were going to teach me how to knit cables. Is an hour enough time?"

The older woman gave a quivering little smile. "I think so."


	16. While My Pretty One Sleeps

**Hello again Everyone!**

**I know this has taken forever to write and to be honest it was a struggle, both to say what I wanted it to say and to find the time to say it. Thanks to all the benevolent powers that be for Spring Break! :) **

**In this little installment, we see Victor being...well...Victor, so most of it is not for the faint of heart or the weak of stomach. I don't think it really needs any more introduction. I hope you all enjoy and can forgive me for the lo-o-ong wait. I'm hoping to have to next one out in a much more timely fashion.**

**As always, I don't own Victor Creed or anything else from the X-Men universe and I don't make any money from this. I just get to indulge my imagination and have fun!**

**Enjoy :)**

**psyche b**

16. While My Pretty One Sleeps

With every minute that ticked by, Creed's hatred for Stan grew. In itself, that was nothing new. Stan had made the frail's life hell and that was more than enough to incur a smoldering hatred that would last for as long as he lived. This was different though. This was a bright flame that made his chest hurt with every breath.

It was because of Stan that he'd bolted out the door while she was in the shower, making his way through the woods on all fours to find Conlon at the agreed upon place, leaving the frail vulnerable for the twenty minutes he was gone. It was because of Stan that he'd returned carrying three light blue Hypnocyn tablets in a tiny plastic bag in his shirt pocket. He would only need one of the hexagonal pills, but Conlon hadn't exactly gotten it from a pharmacy. It was Stan's fault that he spent the day feeling the almost imperceptible weight of that package growing heavier as the time grew closer to use its contents.

It was all Stan's fault, and Stan was going to fucking pay in blood and suffering.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly stood on the porch with her grandparents in a close, three-way embrace. After a few minutes, Kelly stopped struggling to hold back her tears.

"You don't have to g-go." Her grandmother's voice cracked.

"Anna-"

"She doesn't want to go! Do you?" Even in the dim light, Kelly could see the desperation in her grandmother's eyes. She envied Victor for having gotten away to the car after a few quick goodbyes.

"Granna, there's no answer to that question."

"Of course there isn't," her grandfather said.

"I can't lose you again." Her grandmother's fingers tightened on the back of Kelly's jacket.

"You're not going to lose me, Granna."

"You sound so sure of that." The old woman shook her head.

"I am sure." Kelly was sure that Victor would do everything in his power to keep her safe. The rest of the world was far more uncertain. She had almost gotten used to that.

"You know you can come back anytime." Her grandfather said. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he knew more about what was going on that he was willing to let on.

"I know. I'll call you tomorrow."

"From where?" Her grandmother asked quickly.

"From wherever she is." Her grandfather answered.

"So you want your only granddaughter to be a gypsy?" Her voice was getting more shrill. "What kind of life is that-"

"Anna!" His voice was sharp and commanding.

Kelly could see that her grandmother had been pushed beyond her breaking point, and without another word she turned and retreated back into the house. Kelly started to go after the older woman, but her grandfather stopped her.

"Don't."

"But-"

He shook his head. "She needs to figure this out for herself."

Kelly sighed. "I can't even say goodbye without messing it up somehow."

"That's Stan talking."

"I've been upsetting her since I got here. That's a plain fact."

"That doesn't make it your fault."

Kelly looked at him flatly. "Then what would you call it?"

"An overdue meeting with reality." He glanced over at the car. "You should go."

"I know." She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "I love you both. Tell Granna?" Just saying the words made her heart ache.

"You know I will. Be safe." Her grandfather's voice cracked and his arms tightened around her. After becoming so accustomed to reading small gestures, the meaning behind this one was clear. For a moment she stood there, holding onto him just as tight. Finally, she forced herself to take a step back.

"I will." She turned and walked quickly toward the car, brushing at her eyes as she went.

*~*~*~*~*~*

They'd been traveling in a general southwesterly direction for close to an hour. He'd expected the frail to be weepy, and for a grand total of ten minutes he'd been right. The bawling was almost a part of the plan. He'd figured that she'd cry for awhile, it would drive him fucking nuts and he'd have a good reason to force her to shut up. Now what the fuck was he gonna say? "I know you like to keep busy, so I signed you up for a drug trial. Take this." "You don't take anything stronger than Advil. Consider this a new experience." "What the fuck are you asking so many questions for? Just take the goddamn thing."

He glanced over at her. Her body was relaxed, her eyes turned toward the darkness out the window. Still, her anxiety had been steadily increasing. He glanced back at her eyes and realized they were fixed on the side mirror. There was nothing out there except-.

"They're following us, aren't they?"

Fucking frail. She was goddamn determined to make this whole thing harder for him. He looked over at her. "What the fuck makes you think that?"

She shrugged a little. "They've been behind us for over half an hour-"

"So? Might be someone who lives around here." His grip tightened on the wheel.

"The other times we've been on these little roads we hardly ever see other cars."

"Drawing on a vast well of experience there?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Maybe not, but-"

"But you just figured you'd get yourself all worked up anyway."

She looked at him, her eyes direct. "Am I wrong?"

He growled. "Goddammit, did I say that?"

"No, but-"

"And if they are following us, what makes you think I don't know?"

"I didn't say-"

He could smell her anxiety spiking but it was mixed with anger. "Calm your ass down."

She turned back toward the window and let her hair fall to hide her face. This was supposed to be the easy part and he'd already fucked it up.

"Give you three guesses who's behind it." His tone was softer.

She looked over at him. The anger had faded, replaced by fear. "Granna and Grampa-"

"They're safe. These are idiots. They didn't know where we were until I made sure they found out where we'd be and around what time we'd be there. We were far enough away that they aren't going to make the connection."

She was silent, trying to work it out. "Alright, I'm confused."

"I'll tell you, but you might need a program to follow it. Stan's into something with somebody who scares the shit out of him. Whoever this person is and whatever he's into, Stan thinks you know something about it that can hurt him. He doesn't want his partner to know that he's actively looking for you. If he hires somebody who knows what the fuck they're doing, that's going to get back to whoever the partner is."

"Why?"

He chuckled. "Because the people who do what I do and do it well, and the people who hire us on a regular basis tend to be a pretty small segment of the population. So, he hired asshole wannabes. I'm gonna put on a little show for their benefit." A little shrug. "Maybe get Stan off your ass long enough to get you out of the country for awhile. You'll be safer and I can get Stan pinned down." He took the tiny bag out of his pocket and put it in her hand. "Take one of these."

"What is it?" She moved her fingertips over the bag, trying to get a tactile sense of the contents.

"Hypnocyn."

Her fingers paused. "Isn't that a sleeping pill?"

"Yeah." Even without looking at her, he knew the expression on her face was somewhere between shock and fear. "And don't fucking look at me like that!"

Her scent became more heavily laden with fear. "Like what?"

"Like I just beat your ass for no good reason." He couldn't look at her, not even out of the corner of his eye.

"Victor-"

"We ain't gonna discuss this, frail. Take the pill." She was silent, fear was rolling off of her in viscous waves. The scent of that kind of fear usually made him hard. The scent of it on her brought a hot, painful lump to his chest. He reached out and tangled his fingers in her hair. She leaned into his hand.

"Just one?" Her voice trembled.

"Yeah."

Her hands shook, but she took one of the tablets out of the bag and took it with a swallow of water from the bottle she kept in her bag. She shifted as close to him as she dared and closed her eyes. He let his arm rest on the console close to her.

"Where out of the country?" She asked softly.

"Probably Canada to start with."

She smiled a little. "You have a house there too?" The anxiety was fading from her scent.

A little grin. "Not yet."

She opened her eyes and traced the back of his hand hesitantly. "It's not fair to you."

He captured her hand in his and shrugged a little. "I dunno, good hunting, plenty of privacy, tight little frail to fuck whenever I want, however I want. I've taken worse deals." He glanced at her and grinned.

She laughed softly and he could just make out the blush that colored her cheeks. "Victor Creed, you are a true romantic."

His grin spread, revealing pointed teeth. "Shut the fuck up."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed's research told him that the drug should take effect within fifteen minutes. For the frail, it took thirty. He knew because he checked the clock on the dash more times than he would have ever admitted to. As soon as she was out, he killed the headlights and made a U-turn at a wide spot in the road. He'd turned down a gravel road and then circled back and watched the car that had been following drive past him.

He grinned a little. At least something was going right. "Fucking amateurs."

He waited for ten minutes, then went back the other way, leaving the lights off until he'd gone a good five miles. There was never any sign that his pursuers had figured out that he'd doubled back, but he wasn't about to take chances at this stage of the game. Without really thinking about it, he guided the car through the maze of disused dirt roads to an abandoned farm. He pulled out his phone and dialed Conlon.

"Barn." Conlon said and ended the call.

Creed watched Conlon open one of the rickety doors, then the other. Creed drove slowly into the dimly lit structure. Conlon was already parked inside. A girl was nearly suspended by her handcuffed wrists from a rope descending from somewhere in the dark rafters. She was weakly illuminated by a couple of lanterns. Lank, dirty hair hung over her face. He got out of the car and walked over to the girl, his eyes appraising. She started to struggle and cry.

He noticed the stench first. A miasma of terror mixed with unwashed flesh, spermicide and cum surrounded her. He ignored it. The tiny denim miniskirt she was wearing was hiked up enough that he could see a ragged pair of cheap black nylon panties. Her pink tank top was streaked with dirt and stained with blood. After a single circuit, he dug clawed fingers into her dirty hair and tugged her head back. The girl was shaking, whimpering. A ball-gag was buckled around her head. Creed chuckled.

"Nice touch."

"Be prepared. Only thing I took away from my three months as a cub scout." Conlon said.

Creed began to sort through the various smells that surrounded the girl. "You fucked her?" Creed asked, he pulled the girl's hair back roughly so that he could study the contours of her face. Trails of black mascara highlighted the tracks of her tears.

Conlon shrugged, a hard grin curling the corners of his lips. "You said no tats, no piercings and natural tits. Once I had her all undressed I figured I might as well put her to good use."

Creed grinned. The height was close. The hair color was a little off, but it was similar to what the frail had looked like when he found her. This girl weighed a little less than his frail did now, but it was close enough. He took a moment to further parse out the subtleties in her scent.

"Also said I didn't want a junkie."

"I had limited time and specific criteria." He pointed at the girl and she struggled harder. A cry was muffled by the gag. "That's the best I could do."

Creed sniffed the air again. "Hasn't been using long."

"Might be seen as your way to keep her compliant."

"If it's found at all. I ain't exactly had a lot of time to research what little trick is gonna do to toxicology." The girl whimpered and started to struggle again. He twisted his hand tighter in her hair until she stopped fighting. The new angle gave him a better look at the slope of her brow and width of her cheekbones.

"The longer I look at the shape of her face, the more I think this isn't going to work." Conlon said.

Creed turned to look at the younger mutant, a hard smirk curled his lips. "You had fourteen straight up kills before you settled into protection."

Conlon's jaw tightened. "It was more than-"

"Fifteen then, your last one was a double-header, though you didn't expect it to be."

Conlon's eyes were fixed on Creed's. For a moment, the girl was forgotten. "You still hired me."

Creed shrugged. "'F it'd been for an outright kill I wouldn't have."

"Then what difference does it make if it was fourteen or fifteen or four?"

Even in the rotting wood scent of the barn and the cloud of scent the girl was pumping out, Creed could still smell a blend of anger and embarrassment coming off of Conlon. The smaller mutant's face was carefully arranged to look hard and uncaring. Creed looked back at the girl, turning her head so that the weak light caught all the different planes of her face. "I been watching people die since before your grandmother was born. Faces change, 'specially if you break certain bones long enough before so that swelling and bruising has time to set in, but not so long that the features are completely fucked up." He released the girl's hair. "Starting now would be too soon, sides, I don't want it bleeding all over my goddamn upholstery."

"And right before is too late because once the heart stops there's no more swelling." Conlon finished. Creed gave a short nod.

It took the girl the space of an adrenaline-fueled heartbeat to realize what was being discussed. When she did, she threw all of her weight into fighting the bonds that held her. There was a flow of fresh tears, fresh terror and fresh muffled screams. It sent a surge of power straight to Creed's groin and annoyed him all at once. He hit her hard in her exposed abdomen. The clear explosion of pain shocked her into silence again.

He smirked a little. "Somebody trained it at least. You sure about your new connections?"

"Sure as I can be. Once they found out my parents were CoH and I might know where to find Kelly they didn't ask too many more questions."

Creed hadn't anticipated too many problems with that part of things. Conlon was one of those mutants who could pass as human and he was, after all, going to provide 'valid' information. He let the subject drop. "There running water around here?"

"There's a well. Why?"

"Nothing of mine would ever be that fuckin' filthy." He opened the trunk and pulled the frail's shampoo out of her bag. He tossed the small bottle to Conlon. "Gimme your keys."

Conlon tossed them and dragged the girl off somewhere. Creed wasted no time in moving the luggage out of his trunk. He opened the trunk of Conlon's green Chrysler and pulled out a couple of pillows and two thick, down comforters. He lined the trunk with one of the blankets and spread one so that she'd be laying on three layers. Every action ratcheted up the tightness in his chest, so he fussed with pillows and blankets and suitcases in an effort to push it away from himself.

Finally, he couldn't put it off any longer. He opened the car door and lifted the frail out carefully. Anxiety was written in her scent, but it was the kind that invaded her dreams. He drew her closer against his chest and let out a low, rumbling purr. One small hand found its way between the buttons on his shirt, seeking contact with his skin. Even though she found only the cotton of his undershirt, her scent sweetened a moment later. Fucking frail, always making him hesitate when he didn't have the time. He slammed the car door. She never stirred.

He set her in the trunk and watched as she squirmed onto her side, searching for comfort or familiarity. Creed knew she wouldn't find either. That pissed him off. He knew the drug was supposed to induce a deep, almost unshakable sleep for at least eight hours, but he didn't want to give her more reason to fight against it. He shed his jacket and then his shirt, pulled off his undershirt and tossed it in with her. Why he did it at all was a goddamn mystery. Her senses were too feeble to pick up all the nuances of scent that he knew were present on the cotton. Still, he watched her pull the shirt to her face and inhale. Relaxation moved through her in a visible wave.

"Wh-who's that?"

He covered the sleeping girl with the free edge of the blanket. "That your business, cunt?" He turned and looked at the naked girl shivering next to Conlon. A dark purple bruise was forming where Creed had hit her earlier. Her hair dripped from the hasty scrubbing.

"Shouldn't have taken off the gag." The smaller mutant dug his fingers into the rapidly developing bruise. The girl squealed and stumbled away from him.

"'S alright." He pulled his shirt on slowly. "The more she talks, the more incentive I have to rip out her tongue before I kill her."

The girl went gray and her knees buckled. Conlon caught her before she hit the dirt floor. Might prove to be fun to have a scared little mouse to play with for awhile. He found a white turtleneck similar to the one the frail was wearing. He tossed it to Conlon. "Put this on her and get her in the car."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Creed learned a long time ago that most situations - no matter how shitty they appeared to be on the surface - could be turned to his advantage if he looked past the obvious. Obviously he didn't want Stan's asshole squad following him. He could kill them, but he knew there was an endless supply of other dumb shits waiting in the wings just itching to step in. He could evade them, but that would take time and energy and it wouldn't buy him any time to speak of. If he gave them something to look at, they probably wouldn't question what they were seeing. Most people trusted their own eyes, and in that he'd found a small but distinct advantage.

It had been a relatively simple idea to start out with. That was before he had to travel with a whiny crack whore who verbally pissed hysterical lies and overwrought sexual innuendo. "I have a kid." "You can fuck my ass." "You don't really want to do this. You look like a nice guy." "I got so turned on when you were standing there half naked." Her desperation disgusted him. The stink of it rolled off of her in thick, oily droplets that made him feel the need for several long, hot showers. Sure, she was scared too, and listening to her prattle on about not wanting to die was just going to make tearing her apart all the more satisfying. Meant the situation wasn't a total loss.

His attention was split between tossing out graphic descriptions of what he was going to do to the whore and worrying about the frail waking up. It was fucking illogical. She was human. The Hypnocyn was working so far. Even if she managed to shake it early, he'd made sure to give himself a cushion of time. When she woke up she'd be stretched out and comfortable and completely unaware that she'd been locked in a tiny, dark space, or that she had been a few short yards from a murder. He reminded himself that it was the best way. The ones following would see him kill a girl who was about the right size and right look and they'd see him continue on alone. If he knew human nature, they'd jump to the natural conclusion that the girl he killed was the one he left with.

Twenty minutes into the ride, he saw lights behind him again. Thirty minutes in, he interrupted the whore's steady stream of noise with a hard fist to the side of the head, breaking her cheekbone. For a moment, she was shocked into silence. Then a scream erupted from her.

He grasped her throat, pinning her to the seat. "Fuckin' drama queen, aren't you cunt?"

She gurgled and tried to struggle out of the cuffs that still held her hands behind her back.

"You're gonna listen and listen good. I've killed more whores than I can count. Most of the time, I do it just because it gets me off. Even if you had a fuckin' kid I wouldn't give a shit about that or anything else. To me, you're nothing but meat and the more you whine and scream and cry, the more I'm gonna make you suffer."

She croaked something, and he let go of her throat, only to take hold of either side of her jaw. Without taking his eyes off the dark road, he squeezed until the bone broke. She let out of strangled cry. Creed grinned and looked for the turnoff. That little doubling back trick might work again, but he didn't want to take chances at this stage of the game.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Murder was easy.

Humans were so fucking fragile the challenge wasn't in the kill itself. Sometimes Creed found the challenge in the chase. Sometimes it was in how much he could damage them before they gave up. Sometimes it was in how fast he could break them. It all depended on the circumstances, the mood he was in at the time, and the victim. Some of his victims thought they could play him. Appeal to some spark of empathy they thought was hidden behind professional walls. Like all prey, they were all fucking clueless as to what was really going on in the predator's head.

The so-called 'profilers' liked to think they did. Creed studied books on the subject in the same way he devoured forensics journals. The latter gave him a better idea of what kind of trace he was leaving behind. Both gave him tools he used to misdirect and mislead an investigation.

Sometimes that didn't matter. This time it did.

Conlon was still out misdirecting traffic, leaving Creed alone in the narrow ravine to consider his handiwork in private. He stared at the gutted corpse in front of him with a critical eye. Her teeth were sitting in a little pile with her hands and the piece of her intestine with an intact appendix. In all, he was relatively happy with it.

Complete destruction of the face might have made it look more like a personal thing, but he was counting on Conlon making DNA identification goddamn difficult if not impossible all together. The face would be all that was left.

The overkill on the rest of her suggested a hell of a lot of rage. He hadn't been about to put his cock anywhere near that cesspool of a pussy of hers. He couldn't catch anything, but the thought of transferring something to the frail disgusted him and made him even more pissed off at the whore. His fist had made a good substitute and the scent of her bloody terror and the pitch of her screams had gotten him off anyway.

Her hold on life had been tenuous at that point, but she still managed a gurgling scream when he ripped into her soft abdomen. He hadn't been able to hold back a laugh at the shocked look on her face when he started pulling out intestine by the fucking foot. He smiled again just thinking about it. She died before he was done, but by that point he was really just taking care of the details.

He ignored the sticky blood that matted the hair on his chest and arms. His nose and ears told him that there was a small creek less than two minutes' walk away. He'd clean up when he was finished. He found two large rocks and started to crush her teeth into a fine powder. He was halfway finished when he heard a soft sound in the underbrush. He sniffed the air warily. Under the heavy scent of the whore's blood and shit, he detected Conlon.

He went back to his task. "Stop sneakin' around."

"I wasn't sneaking, I was trying to find you. It's damn dark out here."

Creed snorted derisively. "To you."

"Damn that's a mess." Conlon was putting on a good front, but Creed could see that he wasn't looking at the carcass any more than he had to. "You finished?" Conlon asked.

"Just about. How long's it gonna take you?" Creed knew Conlon's mutation allowed him to heat any liquid to boiling and beyond in seconds, including blood and other fluids in the body. He just didn't know how long it would take to accomplish that with an entire body.

Conlon shrugged. "Not sure. You're the first one who's ever asked me to use it this way before."

"Get started then."

Conlon found another rock and put it under the girl's head. He slammed her skull down onto it until he saw brain matter start to leak. Creed watched curiously.

"Vent," Conlon said.

Creed grinned. "Thought you hadn't used it that way before."

"Not strictly after the fact, no. Before...let's just say I didn't think of it and had a hell of a mess to clean up." That scent of embarrassment again.

The rock Creed was using paused in midair, and he started to laugh. "Just cook the bitch."

Almost immediately Creed started to smell something akin to roasting meat. The scent increased in intensity and before his eyes the fresh corpse began to change, to harden in a way. The swollen features changed, but if anything it made her look even more like the frail. A few minutes later, he saw Conlon's concentration shift.

"That's everything?" He asked curiously.

"Down to the marrow in her bones."

"Not bad." He crushed the last tooth and collected the particles in his hand. "I'm going to get cleaned up. Hands and part of the intestine are over there." Even though Conlon lacked experience in simple kills, he was damn good with disposal. Most protectors were. Kept the client safe and insulated from any nasty surprises later. Creed knew his meaning would be clear.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It seemed to take ages for the goon squad to pick up his trail again, but in reality it was less than half an hour. From there, it was fairly easy. Conlon would take care of making sure some of them happened across the body and then picked up his trail again. The police would be involved, but he was sure they wouldn't find anything about his identity. Even the plate numbers would take officials down a rabbit hole to a dead end. He didn't worry about any of those details. They'd all been tweaked and perfected on a thousand other jobs.

He worried about the frail waking up before they got to Chicago.


	17. How You Remind Me

Hi Everyone,

I know this has been a really long wait, but the chapter turned out to be much longer than I anticipated, and there is a little twist at the end. Hopefully that will make it worth the wait. Also, I know that some people believe that Victor does what he does because he was born evil. I don't subscribe to that theory (for Victor or anyone else) and that comes through a little more in this chapter than in others, though I don't think it's so heavily weighted that it should ruin your experience of it. It's considerably less violent than the last one too, though at the end we do get to see Victor being Victor. :)

I hope you all enjoy and thank you so much to those who have left reviews, added this story to their alerts and/or favorites. You have no idea how good I feel when I get those notifications.

pysche b.

17. How You Remind Me

A sound tugged at Kelly's consciousness. It wasn't a loud sound, but even in her drugged state she knew something was different. The music that Victor always had playing while he drove wasn't present, but a deep thrumming was. It seemed to come from under her head and all around her at the same time. It was an undertone to the fragments of dream images that cascaded through her head.

The drug kept her mostly unconscious, but her body still struggled for comfort and her mind still struggled for wakefulness. If it weren't for the numbing white noise and the warmth that surrounded her, she might have succeeded in forcing the effect of the drug away.

Creed had bought the warehouse when he found himself spending more time in the Midwest. It was in the years between the strict usefulness of such buildings, and time when the cavernous brick structures were being converted to trendy lofts, galleries and clubs. He'd picked the place up for a song and pretty much worked his ass off over the next few months to make it livable. If anybody had asked, and if he'd chosen to answer, he might have made some excuse about money or not wanting anybody else pawing through his shit. The truth was, he liked doing something with his hands in a way that didn't involve his claws.

It reminded him of the time before. Before he'd gotten lost in all the wars. Before he'd become saturated in the blood and shit of an uncounted number of nameless victims. Before the animal in him had driven the man into hiding and driven Jimmy away. Before he became Victor Creed the monster, he'd wanted something normal. Course he had no fucking idea what 'normal' meant, but he knew it had something to do with having a place of his own and the freedom to feel the sun on his face whenever he wanted to.

Through the years he'd forced himself to forget about it. Told himself it was stupid and unformed and that it wouldn't satisfy his bloodlust or his rage. The houses he'd owned had been comfortable, built to suit him, and not places he could see himself living for any length of time. It'd reinforced the idea that anything 'normal' was permanently out of his reach. It'd made it easier to tell himself that he didn't really want it in the first place.

The weeks he'd spent with the frail had reminded him of that time before and had breathed tenuous life into that long-repressed dream, except now he wasn't alone in that deeply secret fantasy anymore. It was still stupid and probably impossible. He was in too fucking deep to get out completely and she was human. Along with all her other frailties that meant she would be an easy target for any of the enemies he'd made over the years. Still, the sweetness of her lingering scent teased him toward that walled off place inside his head.

He'd never tell her. She'd think he was out of his fucking mind. Besides, he had too much shit going on now to indulge in some kind of dumbass fantasy.

He slowed down on his way through the city, wanting to make sure that the car following him saw exactly where he went. Once he reached the distressed-looking red brick building he typed in a code and the ground level garage door opened. It was the only way into the building from the street. Once the door closed behind him he changed the code for the outer door and placed his palm on the scanner to open inner door. Conlon's car was there already. Conlon was waiting by the elevator, gun at his side. Creed rolled his eyes and pulled the trunk release lever.

"You piss with your dick in one hand and that thing in the other?" Creed asked.

"Just wanted to be sure you were alone."

"Think I would've come in if I wasn't?"

"No." Conlon admitted. "Guess it's habit."

"Well break it. No wonder the frail's fucking so nervous around you." When he opened the trunk, the stench of anxiety was almost enough to make his eyes water. He turned his head away until the majority of the scent dissipated into the gray, harshly-lit room.

He turned back again to find the frail was still clutching his shirt, but the blanket was mostly off of her. Her shoes were off as well. The blanket might have shifted with the motion of the car, though he thought he'd been careful to tuck it in around her. Her shoes were another matter. One of the other reasons he'd chosen Hypnocyn was the fact that it didn't produce sleep-walking and all that other crazy shit that Ambien and other drugs like it could. He wondered what else his research had gotten wrong as he carefully lifted her out of the trunk. She shifted in his arms so that she was pressing closer to his chest. At least she was still unconscious. According to his calculations, she should have at least another hour and a half of that extremely deep sleep, and two to three hours after that of a more normal sleep. He wasn't at all sure any of that was trustworthy though.

"You got the groceries I wanted?" He asked Conlon quietly as they stepped onto the steel-paneled elevator. The other mutant entered a code and the elevator started to rise.

"Fridge and pantry are all stocked." He replied in an equally subdued voice.

"And what needed to be gotten rid of?"

"No one'll ever find it."

The elevator stopped on the second floor and Conlon typed in a second code. A panel slid open and Conlon set his palm on the scanner. A moment later, they began their ascent again.

"They better not." The soft growl that laced the statement sent a little shiver through the frail. He held her closer in an instinctive gesture of protection. "Bags?"

"Inside the door." Conlon said.

The doors slid open and Creed stepped out. "I'll call you when I'm ready to leave. Stay downstairs unless she calls you."

Conlon nodded and the door slid shut again.

Once they were alone, Creed set the frail down on one of the large sofas, taking care to set her on her uninjured shoulder. He turned on the gas fireplace. He hated the fucking thing. It smelled all wrong and he didn't think it got the damp out of the air the way a wood fire did. Still, he had to admit it was more convenient that hauling firewood through the city.

He watched the frail for a minute and when he was satisfied that she wasn't going to move, he went to take a shower. There was no trace of the whore's blood on his skin, but the scent of her body and her death was still on his clothes and it disgusted him. After he was cleaned up, he'd find himself something to eat. It occurred to him that this was the first time he'd had to cook for himself since he'd found her. His meals appeared either on schedule or on demand and almost always exactly the way he liked them. A little smiled curled his lips as he walked into the bathroom. Fucking frail. Had him spoiled already.

Kelly's eyes fluttered opened, but her limbs still felt as if they were being held down by lead weights. Panic crested and then ebbed away as she realized it was nothing more than the result of prolonged deep sleep. She concentrated on waking up the rest of her body and tried to figure out where she was. When she looked down toward her feet she could see the fire moving, but it looked unnatural. The tumbled river stone surround was not as perfect as the one in the cabin. The imperfections made it more pleasing to the eye.

The wood floor had suffered years of distress, but had been polished anyway, turning the scars into something beautiful that stood out in sharp contrast to the pattern of the oriental rug immediately in front of the sofa. She scanned the room in front of her eyes slowly, and found most of the space to be in darkness. Even in the lack of light, she could tell that the room was enormous. She could see the dark shapes of oversized furniture arranged in clusters, she presumed to denote specific areas. A rug tied each cluster together, giving the illusion of rooms without walls. She couldn't discern more detail than that though.

Slowly her body started to respond and she turned over onto her back and rubbed at her eyes. The ceiling soared above her, making her head spin. She closed her eyes until the feeling went away. When she opened them again, she focused the opposite end of the room where she could just make out the sinuous patterns of wrought iron railings around an elevated loft.

The sounds came through next, but it took Kelly some time to recognize them as the clink of utensils against a plate. She sat up slowly and set her feet on the floor. Victor was sitting at a breakfast counter, illuminated by a row of pendant lights. His back was to her. Seeing him there made her surroundings seem less important.

Kelly tried to get up, but the world spun around her again. She sat back down and took a deep breath. Her second try was more successful, though there was still a distinct feeling of disconnection from her body. Her knees trembled with each step so she moved slowly. The shift from carpeting to bare floor was too much for her tenuous balance to take and her knees buckled. If she hadn't caught herself against an ottoman she would have hit the floor hard. As it was, the sound drew Victor's attention.

"What the fuck-" He was across the large room faster than she would have imagined. He grasped her elbow and lifted her enough so that she was sitting on the ottoman. He grabbed a handful of her hair and tilted her eyes up to his. Kelly's heart started to pound as he studied her eyes intently for a long moment. His eyebrows knitted together and he let go. "You really are awake."

"Yeah, kind of." She managed a smile. "Where are we?"

"Chicago." He was still looking at her curiously.

"What?" With each passing moment she was starting to feel more normal.

"I figured you'd be asleep for another couple of hours. You hungry?"

Kelly hadn't thought of it until that moment. "Yeah. Show me where the kitchen is."

"Sure, then I can watch you set the place on fire too. I'll make you some eggs and sausage. You gonna be able to get to the counter without falling?"

"I think so." She got up again, this time her head didn't spin. "Bathroom?"

He started back toward the kitchen. "Over there." He pointed to a door in the enclosed lower part of the loft.

"Thanks." Kelly walked slowly at first, but with each step she gained more confidence. By the time she came out again, the unbalance and weakness was gone completely. As she crossed the room she saw Victor still cooking her eggs. She hesitated at the edge of the tiled kitchen, amazed at how comfortable he looked.

"What?" He didn't take his eyes off the scrambled eggs he was finishing.

Kelly blushed a little and smiled. "It smells good."

He gave a derisive snort and put the eggs on a plate. "You thought I couldn't cook?" He set it on the counter, then put his arm around her waist and lifted, saving her from an awkward climb up onto the tall stool. He put the plate and utensils in front of her along with a glass of juice.

"I didn't say that. Just that I've never seen you do it. Well, except that first night." She took a bite of the eggs.

"That first night I could've fed you shit, you wouldn't have noticed." He put two sausage patties on her plate. She knew in his estimation they were overdone, but they were just how she liked them.

She smiled at him. "Thanks."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile before he turned away. "Don't get used to it, frail."

He sat down next to her and for a few minutes they ate in silence. As her hunger was satisfied though, she began to notice tension creeping into Victor's neck and shoulders. She bit back the questions that formed on her lips. She knew from experience that if she asked him what was wrong he'd tell her she was imagining things and she never would find out. Difficult as it was, she maintained the silence and kept her eyes on her plate.

"Told you I was gonna give Stan's goons a show." He wasn't looking at her.

Kelly chose her words carefully. "Yes. Did you?"

"Yeah. 'F it worked, people will think you're dead."

Kelly looked at him quickly. "Won't they look for a body?"

Silence hung between them for a long moment. "They've got one."

"But I'm not..." The meaning of his statement broke though. She tried to hide the shudder that went through her body. "That was screaming I heard." She murmured.

His head came up quickly. "Heard when?" His tone was harsh and demanding. Kelly dug her nails into her thigh to keep from flinching.

"I don't know when exactly. I was sleeping. There was someone screaming and it didn't seem like part of the dream I was having at the time." She didn't want to asked the next question, but she knew she had to. "You-"

"Did what I had to do!" He turned away again. His shoulders hunched.

Kelly couldn't absorb the full impact of it all. Not yet. She stuck to the details that seemed farthest removed from her feelings. "They'll know it's not me. Fingerprints, DNA..."

"They gotta have your fingerprints to compare to first. Unless you got an arrest record you're keepin' quiet, your prints wouldn't be on file anyway. DNA," He glanced over at her. "Let's just say I made sure it would be pretty goddamn difficult to find any."

Kelly nodded. Her head was starting to spin. She murmured something about wanting a shower, slid off the stool and retreated into the bathroom.

He'd watched her start to shut down before, but he'd never seen it happen so fast. One thing he was sure of was that when she came out of it, she'd fucking hate him. She'd look at him like the animal that he was. She'd be disgusted. How could she feel anything else about a murderer?

And why the fuck did he give a shit what she thought or felt in the first place? She was just a frail. She happened to belong to him and she would until he decided he was sick of her. She didn't really matter. He started repeating that to himself like a callous mantra as he got up and took a bottle of whiskey out of the cupboard.

Intoxication was another kind of solace that was lost to him. He hoped that the burn of the alcohol would take his mind off the pain in his chest and that he would start to believe the words that were running on an endless loop in his head.

He opened the bottle and took a long drink.

Kelly didn't know how long she'd been sitting on the floor of the shower while the water cascaded over her. She knew that when she first got in the water was hot enough to be painful to sit under and now she was shivering from the cold. However long the gradual switch from hot to cold took, it hadn't been long enough for her to get anything straight in her mind.

She knew exactly how she _should_ feel. She should be horrified. She should feel some sense of guilt, since without her that woman, whoever she was, would still be alive. She should be afraid of Victor. If he'd killed a stranger so easily, what would he do to her if she upset him?

None of those feelings surfaced on their own. The only one she could muster in any way at all was a renewed nervous fear of Victor. Even that was more subdued than it had been in the beginning though, probably because she felt like she'd given him plenty of opportunities to be upset with her and she was still very much alive and – except for a few bruises – intact.

The longer she sat under that icy spray, the clearer it became to Kelly that she was was glad to be alive and to have a chance at a more permanent kind of safety, no matter what the cost to a stranger. The idea that a more lasting safety was even possible for her was something she'd only recently allowed herself to entertain. She wasn't ready to start putting conditions on how that safety was won.

Someday, maybe Stan would be out of her life. Maybe then she would start to feel everything she couldn't feel now. Maybe she would still feel grateful to have lived long enough to have the opportunity for those feelings to come back. If the guilt and horror came then, she would deal with it. The act was already over and beyond her control anyway. Still, the lack of feeling gnawed at her. It was one of those other things she couldn't do anything about.

Kelly got up and turned off the water. She wrapped her hair in a dark blue towel and herself in a matching bath sheet. The large towel made her feel warmer already, but there was will the matter of clothing. She dried off and walked quietly out into the large space. The TV was on, but she couldn't see Victor anywhere. Usually that meant he was sprawled out on the floor.

She saw the shadowy shapes of the their bags by what looked like an elevator door and started toward them.

"C'mere, frail."

She paused and looked out into the semi-dark space. "I forgot to bring a change of clothes with me. Let me get dressed-"

"Your hearing goin' bad? You need me to repeat myself?" A growl gave a dangerous undertone to the questions.

She recognized the tone of the growl as worried annoyance. She shivered a little. "No." She walked slowly toward the light of the TV. He had the volume so low that she couldn't hear it until she was right in front of it. She found him stretched out on the floor, his back resting against the sofa, an empty bottle of Jack Daniel's lay next to him.

"Was starting to think you'd drowned."

Kelly sat down next to him and hugged her knees. Her chin rested on top of them. "Sorry." For a few minutes she watched the images flicker across the screen. "Why don't I feel it?"

He looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Feel what?"

"Guilt. It's my fault she's-"

"Bullshit. You didn't have anything to do with it."

"If Stan hadn't been looking for me-"

"How far back do you wanna go? If Dawes had killed you, Stan would have no reason to look for you. If Stan had managed to drive you out of your fucking mind, you'd be locked up someplace. If your mother had never met your father you wouldn't be here at all. Any of that sound good to you?" The words were laced with anger. Kelly turned her head and saw none of that venom conveyed in his eyes.

She managed a little smile. "No."

"Didn't think so." He grasped her upper arm and pulled her into his chest, she snuggled close. "You're a survivor, and self-preservation is a fucking ugly business most of the time. Best to get used to that early on." He pulled the towel off of her hair and started drawing his claws through it, separating the wet strands. Kelly shivered and pressed closer. "What the hell did you do? Sit in ice water?"

"No, but I guess the shower got kind of cold at the end."

"Fucking understatement." He fell silent again, letting his fingers work through her hair. "First time's the hardest, even if you ain't got a choice. After that you get used to it, figure out a way to separate yourself from it."

The feeling of his claws lightly scraping against her scalp made her tremble. "I'm so sorry." Kelly murmured.

His hand paused. "For what?"

"Ever since you found me, I've done nothing but create turmoil-"

A short, sharp laugh shook his body. "As opposed to how placid and serene my life usually is?"

Kelly couldn't help but laugh a little. "I just meant-"

"You meant that you're letting yourself get all wrapped up in sentimental bullshit again." He wrapped a lock of her hair around a finger and tugged, forcing her to look up at him. "What've I told you a hundred times?"

Kelly blushed, a little smile touched her lips. "That you protect what's yours."

"Fucking right." He let her lay her head down again. His fingers started drifting through her hair again. Tension was starting to creep into his body. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

Kelly flinched back. "But we just got here-"

He pulled her against him again and held her there. "Ain't like me to stay in one place very long. We were being followed by idiots, but I would bet there's someone higher up with more than two functioning brain cells. If that's the case, this place is still being watched. If I stay, it'll be a clue that something's up."

Kelly glanced around at the tall, wide windows. She could almost feel eyes on her. "If you leave, they'll still see the place is occupied though. Who will they think is living here?" She realized she was holding on tighter.

"Conlon'll be here. He's got 'em thinking he's some kind of double agent. Working for me, feeding them information. Made sure to set up a paper trail to show that he owns this place and has for a couple of years. You're gonna stay inside, but seeing him coming and going won't be any big deal."

"How did you-"

"Computers. Any kind of record you want is on a fucking computer someplace. You've just gotta know how to find it and how to change it without leaving a trace."

Kelly looked up at him, a little smirk on her lips. "Is that all?"

"Pretty much." He shrugged a little, the quirk of a smile revealing the tip of one fang. "Having someone on the payroll who knows how to do all that shit without asking questions is pretty goddamn useful too."

Kelly laughed softly and put her head back down again. The details of who this mysterious person was or where Victor was going when he left were really not something Kelly wanted to know anything about, so she didn't ask. His hand wandered down to the back of the towel she had wrapped around her body.

Her fingers moved through the thick mat of hair on his chest. "Is that why you have so many houses?"

"What?"

"The fact that you don't stay in one place long."

Claws traced her bare shoulders. The gentle scraping warmed her chilly skin. A little shrug. "Wanted places to go back to, but I'd get bored. I can be bored and make money at the same time when I'm working. 'Sides, in my line of work you need places to hide out from time to time." He picked up the bottle and started to turn it slowly, his eyes focused on the way the bottle caught the light.

The meaning was clear to Kelly, that she was simply another annoyance and when he got bored enough he would disappear from her life completely. The searing pain that idea caused was worse than anything physical he'd ever inflicted on her. It took her breath and sent cracks radiating through her tenuous confidence in herself and in the way she read him. She started to pull away from him, but he twisted his hand in her hair. Still, she squirmed, but he held her in place as if he'd merely been discussing the weather. Kelly reached up to untangle his hand from her hair. He held on tighter.

"Different now." His eyes were still on the slowly moving bottle. Kelly froze. "Not so easy to just leave..." He pulled her face against his chest.

Kelly slipped her arm around his waist, her lips brushed against his clavicle. The grip on her hair eased. He turned to face her, his eyes still not quite making contact.

"It's not easy to watch you go." Kelly whispered.

His eyes locked on hers. Curiosity, anger, incredulity and something softer flickered through them. He stroked her cheek with the backs of this fingers. She moved closer. He advanced at the same time. Both paused when their mouths were scant inches apart. The faint scent of alcohol was still on his breath. She took it into herself and felt the world contract with each inhalation. Before long, there was nothing left except the parts of the world that he created. His breath. The scent of his body. The warmth and texture of his skin. The way the barriers had shifted behind his eyes.

He advanced first. His lips brushed against hers with a tenderness that Kelly had never dared imagine. A tremor course through her. For a moment it seemed like he might pull away, but Kelly arched closer. Her tongue caressed his lips tentatively. A low purr emanated from his chest. His tongue met hers in a gentle sparring match that continued until they were both breathless. Still, his mouth stayed on hers, simply resting against it, as if breaking contact would break a spell.

"Yours." Kelly breathed.

"You mean that." The tint of surprise colored the statement.

She moved back just enough so that he could see her eyes. "Yes, I do."

For what seemed like forever, he just looked at her. Kelly's heart started to pound. He grasped the back of her head and kissed her again, this time with familiar, hungry passion. Kelly surrendered, her hands wandering over his chest and down to the waistband of his sweats. He pulled the towel off of her. Her fingers wandered over his growing erection. Without warning, he pushed her away.

He growled. "Not here."

He got up with swift grace, pulled Kelly to her feet. The towels were forgotten. So was the bottle and the television. As soon as they were up in the dark loft his familiar aggression was back. Kelly was unbalanced by the dark and the unfamiliar space. She kept her hands on Victor's chest, retreating as he advanced. His hands wandered over her arms and down her back, the light scratches he left only served to heighten the sensation of the moment. When the backs of her legs hit the bed, she sat down and he moved over her. Kelly lay back and arched up to his body.

Their coupling was swift and filled with a ferocious need. Need that he expressed with his growls and his claws as well as with his hips. Kelly felt his claws trailing fire over her arms and breasts. The contrast pushed her deeper into the fast-moving, all-consuming pleasure. Her hips met his with an intensity that revealed her passionate lust and need for intimate connection. When the building pleasure consumed her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and held tightly.

Nothing in the world mattered more than the connection between them. In those moments it was easy to believe that nothing ever would.

Creed watched the frail sleep. He was half-propped up against the headboard. She straddled his hips and had nodded off against his chest. One hand was tangled in her hair, the other followed the angle of her body, over her back, down over her thigh and back again. He wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting there, but dawn was starting to filter in to the large space. He reached out and tapped a button on the remote next to the bed. Hidden shades descended with a soft whirring sound. The frail shifted against him, but didn't wake. Surprising, considering how long she'd slept under the influence of the drug.

Still, he wasn't going to complain. As long as she was asleep, he couldn't fuck it up. He knew as sure as he was sitting there that he was going to fuck it up. Maybe she'd figure out a way to live with it, even after her own crisis had passed. Probably not, but at least now there might be a slim chance.

He shifted her carefully. She whimpered and trembled, but lay down next to him. He purred softly until she settled again.

"Frail, when you finish with those come over here."

Kelly laughed a little, but kept her eyes on the dinner dishes. "Victor, I don't have a healing factor like you do."

He grinned. "You got two weeks to recover. And why do you just assume that's what I want?"

She shrugged a little and the wide neck of his t-shirt slipped over her shoulder. "Well, you followed me into the shower this morning. The breakfast dishes sat until lunch. Lunch sat out half made for-"

"Didn't see you complaining." He walked over to her and squeezed her bottom firmly. Kelly jumped a little.

She tried to suppress a smile and feign indifference. "I might've been faking."

He laughed out loud and gave her nipple a playful pinch. "You might be able to fake the sounds, but there's no way in hell you could fake the way your scent changes."

Kelly stepped back, a deep blush on her cheeks. She rarely thought about the way scent added depth his world. "You can tell when I...?"

"Fuck yes." A fang-baring grin. "Hurry up. I gotta get you set up in the security system before I go."

Kelly finished the last few dishes quickly and joined him at the computer workstation that occupied one of the spaces between the large windows. Even though he'd assured her that no one could see in, Kelly was still nervous about standing in front of the windows. Clearly, he didn't seem concerned so she stepped a little closer. On one of the three screens was a schematic of the apartment. He pointed to it.

"I changed out the windows last year. These have two layers of glass with a layer of nanoctystals between 'em. Left alone the crystals aren't organized so it looks like clear glass. In the presence of an electrical charge, the crystals line up. From the inside, it looks lightly tinted. From the outside it just looks black."

"Even if there are lights on in here?" Kelly had noticed the slight tint, but had no idea that the glass was so special.

"Lights on, lights off, doesn't matter. The outer glass and inner glass are both bullet-proof. Not that it should matter, but I figured I might as well cover all my bases." He pointed at the schematic. "See how they're all showing up green?"

"Yes."

"Means they all have power. During a power failure, they're hooked up to a generator that'll power all of them for seventy-two hours. If any are running on generator power, you'll see the ones affected turn yellow. If for some reason there's no power to 'em at all, they'll turn red and the shades'll come down automatically."

"How-"

"The shade mechanism holds enough power to raise and lower them twice, even during a complete power failure. Put your hand on the scanner." He nodded to a piece of equipment with the outline of a hand on it. Kelly put her hand inside the line while he entered a few commands into the computer. A bar of light much like that found in a copier began to descend. "The garage in the only way in from ground level. Conlon has the codes and since you're not going anyplace you shouldn't need them, but I don't want you trapped in here if this all turns to shit. To get to or from this level the system needs your palm print and your personal code in that order."

"What happens if-"

"Just remember to do it in that order, and that's a last resort." The scanner beeped. "Take your hand off and enter the six digit code you want."

Kelly typed in the first six numbers that came to mind. He wrote them on the list with the others.

"Conlon knows all the details, but that should get you through anything you need in an emergency."

She watched him typing commands quickly and waiting for the computer's responses. It all looked like gibberish to Kelly, but that wasn't really what was on her mind anyway. "Conlon hates me, doesn't he?"

He looked over his shoulder. "What the fuck are you talking about now, frail?"

"I broke his nose. I apologized, but-"

He groaned. "Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. All that matters is that he's paid to make sure you stay safe and have what you need when I'm not here. If he fucks that up, he better make damn sure he gets himself killed in the process." He tapped a few more keys, turned and advanced on her.

Kelly retreated until her back hit the rough brick wall. "Thought you had other things on your mind?" She smiled and trailed her fingertips down over his bare chest to the waistband of his shorts.

"I did." He grinned. "Now I got something else on my mind." He lifted the hem of her shirt. His grin widened when he saw she wasn't wearing panties.

"Still sore." Kelly knew her words didn't sound convincing, even though it was the truth. She moved her hands down over his thighs, her fingers barely teasing the sides of his hardening shaft.

He sniffed the air. "Maybe so, but your still so wet for me." He lifted the shirt up higher. "Take this off."

She pulled it over her head. One large hand found her right breast and squeezed roughly. Kelly's knees went weak. She did ache, but the intense need made her feel a different kind of ache. He bent down and rubbed the rough side of his tongue around her ear. "I'm gonna fuck you, frail." He pinched her nipple hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. "Either I'm gonna do it here, or you're gonna bend that sweet little ass of yours over that sofa." He bumped his head against hers so that she would look over at the big sofa she'd woken up on the night before.

Kelly already had raw spots on her back from and earlier encounter with the rough brick. "Have to let me go so I can walk over there." One of her hands was tracing the contours of his thick erection, the other was on his wrist, trying to coax him to release her throbbing nipple.

He chuckled, increased the pressure for just a moment and then he let go. Kelly moved from between him and the wall and walked slowly across the open space. She heard him discard his shorts and follow her. Her knees trembled. Need and anxiety coursed through her veins in equal amounts. When she reach the sofa she stood frozen. Clawed fingers moved up from the small of her back to wrap around her shoulder. She shook her head slightly.

He stroked the back of her neck. "Broken frail ain't no good to me." His voice was little more than a soft purr next to her ear. Coming from him, it was tender reassurance.

Kelly bent forward. He took his time, stroking her back, positioning himself, teasing her with sharp scratches and slow pressure. Kelly pressed back as much as she could. Finally he pushed inside her. Kelly whimpered sharply with each movement of his hips. Her inner muscles clenched as pleasure and ache mingled, fused and became inextricable from each other. She began to move with him, to encourage him. Claws bit into her hips as the intensity of his passion increased, driving Kelly deeper into pleasure. His hand was on her shoulder. She reached back and laced her fingers with his. Moments later, the pleasure consumed her.

Creed sat in the car. It was a little after midnight and he knew he should leave. The frail was pretty damn sore, but she'd been close to falling asleep again. Conlon was there. Leaving was the right thing to do. The only thing to do now. He turned the car on, and drove out. If anyone was watching, they'd see exactly what they expected to see. Him leaving...alone. He'd change vehicles when he was sure that no one was following him, but right now, he wanted them to watch.

At the first red light, he played with the mp3 player until he found the song he wanted. "Wherever I May Roam" by Metallica filled the quiet car. The words used to be true. Some of them still were. He turned it up to an almost painful level and forced himself to focus on his schedule of jobs.

Kelly was always amazed at how many places Victor could make ache with an act that was usually so pleasurable. The raw spots on her back, a long scratch on her ribs and her bruised nipple were obvious. The place between her legs was obvious too, though she also hurt from her navel down and her knees up. One of these days she would have to ask how he managed that. If she ever got up the courage. For two days until the ache abated, Kelly relaxed in bed or on the sofa. She called her grandparents daily. Her grandmother still wouldn't speak to her. Her grandfather said that she needed 'more time'. Kelly wondered how much more time she would need.

Victor called once in those two days. Kelly had learned to expect those conversations to be short and limited to superficial topics, but hearing his voice always made her day.

Conlon was another matter. She hadn't contacted him at all. Victor told her that he'd let Conlon know when he was leaving, but the other mutant would stay downstairs unless she called. For the first couple of days, it was easy to put off talking to him. She was sore and she had to get settled into the strange, cavernous space. From what Victor had told her, this was a temporary arrangement. Getting familiar with the place would serve to ease her anxiety and that had to take precedence over figuring out how to apologize.

By the third day, Kelly was glad that the apartment was a temporary location. It was nothing she could put her finger on exactly. At night, the space was so large that even with all the lights on there were pools of darkness throughout the downstairs. During the day, the tall, wide windows all made her feel as though she was being watched all the time. She knew it was silly. Victor would have never left her alone somewhere inherently unsafe. That didn't change her general feeling about the place.

She also knew that she was going to have to settle things with Conlon. She searched through the fridge and cabinets and put together a batch of fresh focaccia, and while that was rising, she started a pot of tortellini soup.

While the soup simmered and the bread baked, she tried to figure out what to say to Conlon. Several times she picked up her phone, only to put it back down immediately. "If I promise not to hit you, will you have lunch with me?" "So, you still have a nose, right?" "I bet you looked distinguished with a broken nose." It all sounded stupid. Finally, she picked up the phone and dialed.

"Conlon."

"Have you had lunch yet? I mean, this is Kelly..."

He chuckled. "I know. No, I haven't had lunch."

"Neither have I. I'm making soup. It should be ready in about twenty minutes."

"I'll be up in twenty." He said.

Kelly set the table and put a salad together. In exactly twenty minutes she heard a soft tone from somewhere. She paused, terrified that the windows weren't working how they were supposed to. A moment later the elevator door opened and Conlon stepped out. He looked at her.

"What's wrong? Am I early?" He crossed the room. Concern was on his features and in her eyes.

"Does the elevator make a sound when it comes up here?"

He looked at her curiously. "There's a chime that lets you know someone is on the way. Why?"

Kelly released the deep breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Victor must have forgotten to tell me about that. Please, sit."

Over the meal, they made awkward small-talk about the food, how her visit was with her grandparents and a hundred other insignificant things. Silence grew between them.

"I'm so sorry about your nose," Kelly said quickly.

Conlon just looked at her for a moment and then he started to laugh. "Is that why you're so nervous?"

She looked away. "It's not like I just go around hitting people. I appreciate you being here-"

"It was just a broken nose." He shrugged. "By the day after Mr. Creed got back you couldn't even tell anything happened."

"You have a healing factor too?" The words were out before Kelly had a chance to think about whether or not it might be rude to ask.

He smiled a little, the emotion reached his eyes. "Well, it's not as good as Mr. Creed's, but yeah. Makes my line of work easier. Besides, it wasn't the worst thing a client ever did to me."

"Really?" Kelly was fascinated now.

"Yeah. Most of 'em aren't so bad. They think they're in danger so they hire me. Most of the time it's not as serious as they think, but that means all I have to do is be there and I get treated pretty well. The one before you was a pain."

"Why?" Kelly asked. She took another piece of warm bread.

"Lots of things. Is there more iced tea?"

"Yes. Sorry." She started to get up, but he stopped her.

"I'll get it. In the fridge?"

"Yes."

"You want more?" He pointed to her half-full glass.

"No, thanks." Kelly waited until he got back to the table, hoping that he would continue.

"She was about your age, but I think she must have dragged me to every trendy dance club and flea-infested dive in New York City. She drank like a fish and had to be the meanest drunk I've ever had the misfortune to encounter. I could have lived with all that if she hadn't expected me to kick out whatever guy she brought home that night. I got into more fights with random, half-naked guys in the six months I was there than on any other job I've ever had. Course what made it even more fun was that they were all under the influence of something. Half the time she'd be screaming and yelling, he'd be trying to hit me and I'd be asking myself what the heck I was doing in the middle of that mess."

Kelly laughed a little. "Why did she hire you? I mean, it sounds like she was more of a danger to herself than anything."

"She didn't hire me, her father did. Looking back on it, I think he did it so someone would keep an eye on her and he could stay out of it."

Kelly smiled a little. "The way you describe her, it sounds like that girl I saw on the news the other day."

"Who was that?" He asked.

"Some celebutant who was arrested for indecent exposure. I guess it was her fifth arrest in three months and they said alcohol 'may have been a factor'. Giada Bellafiore, I think her name was." Kelly thought for a minute. "Or was that the designer who was on later?"

The look that flickered across his face told her she was right the first time. "NO!" Kelly leaned forward.

"Yeah. That's not really her name, but that's her. I didn't think you followed stuff like that."

Kelly shrugged. "I don't usually, but it was on CNN the other night when I was straightening things up. They said her father was some kind of mobster. I don't remember his name though."

He glanced at her, as if guaging whether or not he could trust her to keep silent. "Paul Cavallo. I never really met him all that much so-"

"I know that name." Kelly sat up straighter.

Conlon shrugged. "Probably, he's all over the news every few months-"

"No. Someone with that name came to visit Stan every so often."

Conlon sat forward in his chair. "Did he have a nickname he asked Stan to use?"

Kelly was overwhelmed by the memory of conversations echoing in darkness. It took her a moment to process the question and come up with the answer. "No, I mean, he told Stan to call him Paulie C, I think. Is that a nickname though? It's probably just someone with the same name-"

Conlon was on his feet. "What did they talk about?"

The whole thing terrified Kelly. She drew her knees up and hugged them. "I-I don't know, it was all numbers and places."

Conlon pulled out his phone and dialed.

Creed was sprawled out on a sofa across from Senator John Kelland and his fat bitch of a wife. The couple were tied to dining room chairs and both were gagged whimpering. The bitch was bruised and bloodied. The senator looked better, except for the fact that he was pale and covered in his own puke. Both had been there long enough that they had pissed themselves. The fact that he had to go slow reminded him again of how much he hated political shit. Still, you know where enough government-sponsored bodies are buried and people tend to overlook other activities. He took a big bite of the steak he'd found in their freezer and prepared for himself. Both of them moaned at the same time.

"What's the matter, John-Boy?" He took another bite and savored it. Neither had eaten in nearly twenty hours. "Not a bad steak. Might've expected better from a guy like you, but I guess you don't like spending your own money so much." He took another bite.

His phone started to ring. The gagged couple started to whimper and whine and make whatever noise they could. He picked up the steak knife and casually sliced off the bitch's earlobe. She screamed into the gag.

"Keep it up, she loses the whole fucking ear." He said it with a smile and licked the blood from the blade. When they were silent again, he answered the phone. It was Conlon's number and he knew Conlon wouldn't call unless something was up.

"Creed."

"Paul Cavallo. She remembered."

"Motherfucker!"


	18. Investigation

Hi All!

Not quite a month between updates this time, but still a longer update than I originally intended. Thank you all for your wonderful comments, and for the story alerts/favorites. They all let me know I'm doing my job well enough to keep you all interested for eighteen chapters! That still kind of amazes me, since this started out as an experiment. :)

I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much. As always, I make no money off of this and I don't own Victor Creed.

psyche b

18. Investigation

Kelly's mind spun in a thousand different directions. Memories, questions, fears and suppositions clanged against each other to create a painful din inside her head. She watched Conlon walk away from her as she tried to get through the internal storm. She kept telling herself that this was not the time to get lost in the past.

Kelly forced herself to focus on Conlon. He appeared to be mostly listening, but he gave short, one or two word answers. Mostly, he seemed to be agreeing with what Victor said. Tension had crept into his stance and the detachment was back in his face. Kelly forced herself to get up and cross the room. He turned quickly. A wary look flickered across his face.

"Can I talk to him?" A soft quiver invaded her voice.

Conlon turned away to relay the message. He turned back and answered her with a simple shake of his head. She started cleaning up. Doing something would keep her hands busy. It would make it easier to combat the fear that was rising in her chest. She forced herself to go numb to that and the too-hot water she plunged her hands into. Somewhere behind her, she heard Conlon end the call.

"He'll-"

"He thinks I lied to him." Her tone was flat.

"I don't know for sure, but I don't think so." Conlon brought the last of the dishes to the sink. "He said he'll call you later tonight."

"So he can figure out what to say." She kept her eyes on the sink.

Conlon forced a short laugh and picked up the dishtowel. "Mr. Creed doesn't strike me as the type who has a hard time saying what's on his mind. He was in the middle of something when I called though. I'm sure that's the only reason."

Logically, she knew Conlon was probably right. She just couldn't shake the feeling of dread.

"Ever step in what you thought was mud, John-Boy?" Creed put the phone back on his belt. The bitch was half-way in shock, a red-brown river of blood trickled from her ear to soak the collar of her shirt. The senator was still conscious and from the look in his eyes, the bastard was pissed. He paced circles around the pair. "You don't do it on purpose but you get talking or thinking or some shit like that and you don't see it 'til you're about to put your foot in it. Then you think to yourself _'Fuck, I shoulda been paying attention.'_ So your foot goes down and as soon as it does you realize it ain't mud after all, it's a knee-deep puddle of putrid liquid shit and you end up falling in face first. Wouldn't be the first time it's happened to me, but every single time it pisses me off just a little more."

He stopped and leaned in close. The defiance retreated from the senator's eyes as Creed advanced, terror bloomed there instead. The stink of it rolled out of his pores in thick waves. "Lemme tell you what else pisses me off. It ain't just me that went shit-diving this time. This time I realized that what's mine has been teetering on the edge of that shithole too and _that_, John-Boy, is what sends me right over the fuckin' edge."

He stood up and glanced over at the corpulent woman. He gave a mean little smirk. "Guess seeing her suffer ain't exactly the same thing, is it? Should've gotten that cute little assistant of yours in here. The one with the big tits and nice ass. She do anything else besides suck cock? Well I guess you'd want her pussy and probably her asshole too, but I mean is she anything but your whore?"

The gag muffled the senator's exclamation. Creed could smell anger mixing with the fear again.

"Awww, what's wrong? Thought nobody knew you were fucking her?" Creed chuckled. Shattering ice struck a warmer note. "How come you government types always think nobody knows what you're doing? I'll tell you one more thing John-Boy, the guy who paid me is gonna get his money's worth today." Creed's fist came down hard and fast on the senator's upturned face, shattering the orbit of his right eye. The bound man screamed into the gag.

Creed gave a derisive snort. "Fuckin' pussy." He brought his fist down again.

For Creed, the next few hours passed in a blur of memory, supposition, muffled screaming and blood. It wasn't his most creative work. Creed didn't really give a shit about the old bastard or his fat wife. They were just a job, but they did provide convenient targets to let out the hottest flashes of his rage against Stan. Dripping blood and shattering bones brought his temper back to a slow smolder. By the time he started staging the scene to look like a home invasion gone to shit, he was working on what was really going on.

Course none of it made a goddamn bit of sense right from the beginning. It would have shocked the hell out of him if this part of it was any different.

Creed figured he had probably worked for just about every reasonably sophisticated criminal organization in the country at one time or another. Each one had its own unique culture that tended to shift with time and changes in leadership. Some included anyone who could bring in money, kick ass or both. Some thought mutants were and oppressed group, so that's all they accepted. Sometimes that was true, sometimes it was cry-ass bullshit. He knew from experience that it could be seductive bullshit, but it was still just bullshit.

No matter what their structure though, most organizations needed to hire outside talent at some point and that was where he came in. Creed didn't give a shit about what each one subscribed to, or what they specialized in as long as the money appeared in his account on time.

Paul Cavallo used in-house talent exclusively. Impressive, but it made Paulie C something of an unknown quantity. He knew what he saw on the news, and for the most part that was all amateurish bullshit. None of it would have given Paulie C the reach he was reputed to have. None of it would have engendered the kind of hatred the other bosses had for him either. Creed didn't like variables and he sure as hell didn't like guessing what he was dealing with. He had a short list of people to ask. Before he could do any of that, he had to finish this up.

He did a final walk-though of the house. Dead maid in the kitchen, wilted green beans scattered over the carcass. Nine private security agents stacked up in a twisted pile of arms and legs in the laundry room, picked off when Creed arrived and when shifts changed. All ten shot twice in the body, once in the back of the head after they went down. Just to make sure they wouldn't be getting back up. Efficient, but boring as shit. Empty electronics cabinets. Empty jewelery armoire upstairs. Old man and bitch lay in thick rusty puddles on the beige carpet. Suitably broken, suitably shocking to whoever found them.

A muted sparkle caught his eye. He cocked his head, went over and tugged at the diamond on the bitch's ring finger. When it didn't come off, he took the whole finger. He dropped the flesh and bone into an empty ashtray and stuck the jewelry into his pocket. Ring was probably worth ten thousand dollars and it was fucking ugly. He wondered absently which one of them had such godawful taste.

Creed stopped in the study. He'd saved it for last, certain that what he was really after had to be in there somewhere.

There were a few decent paintings, but the artists were obscure enough that assholes interested in electronics and jewelry probably wouldn't recognize them. He left them on the walls. He kept scanning the room. The large desk caught his eye. It was easily the best piece in the house. Substantial. Understated with a nice deep polish. The perfect place to keep the combination to a wall safe. He pulled out the center desk drawer, expecting it to come out in his hands. Instead it stopped less than halfway. He sat down and felt around underneath until he found a box taped to the underside. He pulled it off and found a computer hard drive in a plastic bag.

He chuckled. Safe would have been too obvious. He tugged the drawer all the way out and dumped the contents. He found the combination written on a slip of paper taped to the underside, exactly as he expected in the first place. He knocked a few of the paintings askew until he found the wall safe. He opened it and found cash and some legal papers. He left the papers on the middle of the desk. Cash was always useful. He added the four thick bundles to the collection of odds and ends in his pockets.

When he got back to the van, he checked the hard drive. Six files, all containing data. Just like he'd been told. He didn't give a shit about what was in those six files, just as long as they were there. Whatever factions were operating in the world were going to do their thing with or without him. The best he could do for himself and his frail was to figure out how to use them for his own purposes and stay out of the middle otherwise. He dialed the cell number he'd been given. "Got it."

"I'll be waiting."

Creed ended the call and started down the long access road. In forty minutes, the hard drive would be out of his hands, so would the rest of the shit. The cash was a little bonus for all his hard work.

If only everything was this easy.

Kelly tossed and turned in the large bed. All the lights were off in the lower section of the apartment, but the loft was as brightly lit as it could be. Because the lights were calibrated for his superior vision, she had enough light to read by, but none of it reached the first floor, giving the unsettling impression of being adrift on a black sea. She had tried to read. _Jane Eyre_ lay open on the bed next to her, but she wasn't able to concentrate on the story. She glanced over at the clock for the fourth time in as many minutes. She watched the time change to 12:49. With every minute that passed, she got more nervous. When her cell phone finally started to ring she jumped. She fumbled with it.

"Victor?"

"Who the fuck else is gonna call you from my phone?"

She smiled a little. "No one."

"Didn't think so."

"I swear I didn't lie about Paul Cavallo. When you asked me I really didn't remember, or make the connection-" She was shaking as she said it.

"Well shit, I know that. You're a bad liar when you're trying and even if you weren't, I'd still smell it on you."

Kelly sighed and felt the tension leave her body.

"You remember what they talked about?"

She curled up on her side. "CoH events. What was upcoming, what attendance was expected to be and he always had suggestions on how to increase it. What the weather was supposed to be, or what date was better. It was strange, they'd go back and forth on the date and the weather. As far as I knew, Stan never changed the schedule and not even Stan thought he could change the weather, so I don't know why they would debate about it."

"How often did they talk?" She heard him lay back on a protesting piece of furniture. She wondered how long it would be until he moved to the floor.

Kelly sighed. "I don't know. I've been trying to work that out. It seems like when I was down there the longest I heard him three times. I think. It's so hard to know for sure."

"Before every event?" She heard him take a drink of something, probably beer.

"Oh no. Stan went to some kind of event every weekend at least. Sometimes we'd go with him, sometimes just Cody would, or just my mother." Kelly fell silent. Voices from the past seeming to rise from the darkness below her.

"Frail?"

"I'm sorry, I was trying to remember. I think it was just the bigger events, but I can't be sure. I only used any of the conversations I heard to have something to focus on. I had no idea they were so important."

"I got some sources. I don't really give a shit what the details are. I'll take apart Cavallo's entire organization if I have to, then I'll take Stan apart." It was a simple statement of fact. If he knew anything more than that, he wasn't letting anything slip. In an odd way, that was comforting.

Kelly smiled a little. She ached to touch him. "Thank-"

"You settled into the apartment?"

Her smile widened. It was a familiar deflection. "As settled as I can be."

A short little laugh. "You hate it."

Kelly relaxed. "Hate's a strong word."

"Yeah, it ain't my favorite place either."

"Then why buy it?" She almost never questioned him, but it she was so curious.

"Cause for awhile I was doing a lot of business outta the Chicago area and I got sick of the shitty little apartment I was renting. I fuckin' hate cities, but I figured the warehouse would at least give me some space. Location was right when I put this together, and the place has the best goddamn security system I ever built."

"You designed it?" Kelly couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice.

"I can't have a hobby?"

She could almost picture his expression.

"I guess I just never pictured that as a hobby."

"Yeah, well, model airplanes bore the shit outta me. Go to sleep. You always look like hell when you don't sleep enough." His voice was softer.

Kelly smiled a little. "Hard to sleep when you're not here."

"Miss me fucking you?" The words came out in a sensual little growl that sent heat pooling in her lower belly.

A blush heated her cheeks. "Yes, but I miss being close to you too."

"Even more sentimental shit than usual."

Kelly could hear him smiling as he said it.

Creed walked in to the hole-in-the-wall luncheonette and scanned the few patrons. Old man with tremors trying to get a drink of coffee. From the stench coming off of him, he was probably homeless. The only other diner in the place was the one he was looking for. A middle-aged man in gray sweats and a stained t-shirt sat in the furthest booth. His thinning hair had only a passing acquaintance with a comb. He gestured to Creed with a french fry. To look at him, no one would guess that Michael Fallon ran one of the biggest organizations on the East coast with an iron fist, and that was exactly how he wanted it.

The scent of old grease and ingrained desperation hung in the air. Creed walked past mismatched vinyl booths that were held together with silver duct tape and a layer of grease and nicotine. The buzzing of lazy flies provided a counterpoint to the tinny country music coming from somewhere in the kitchen.

"Nice place you got here, Fallon." Creed sat down.

"Anyplace nicer the wife knows people. She finds out I eat a french fry or a burger now and then and goes apeshit and I get read the riot act for a solid week." He shoved three fries into his mouth. "You want somethin'?"

"I'll pass."

"Probably best. The food here is shit, but even shit is better than wheat grass and tree bark and them green things that grow under boats." He took another big bite of fries and chased it with a gulp of Coke. "Anyway, since you ain't one to just drop by when you're in the neighborhood and I ain't got nothing goin' on that's near special enough to need your kinda talent I gotta wonder what this is all about." He waved at a bored looking waitress in an ill-fitting orange uniform. Her hair was a similarly impossible shade.

"How many?" Her voice was roughened by years of smoking.

"Two. Extra cheese."

She disappeared into the back. Creed glanced at her and then the old man at the counter.

Fallon shook his head. "I keep this place open. I keep bums like Larry over there fed. They keep their mouths shut and keep their seat on the gravy train."

"Looking for some information."

"And you come to me because I know everybody." An open and affable smile.

Creed smirked. "Somethin' like that."

"How much is this little bit of gossip worth to you?" He dumped more ketchup on the plate and dipped several fries.

Creed watched him warily. "Way I look at it, you owe me."

Fallon's light blue eyes sharpened. "Really?" He leaned forward. "And why is that?" Despite the environment and the disheveled clothing, in that moment Michael Fallon looked every bit like the boss he was.

Creed didn't flinch in the face of the shift. "I gotta name names? Maybe dates or final resting places would work better for you."

"You got paid."

"Time before last you got two for the price of one, because of our long-standing association." He gave a cold, fang-baring grin.

For a long moment, the two men locked eyes across the table. The tension was broken by the waitress putting a plate down between them. Fallon smiled one of his affable smiles and sat back. "In honor of our long-standing association, whatcha need to know?" He dumped ketchup and mustard on the two greasy burgers.

"Paul Cavallo."

Bushy eyebrows shot up, then he shook his head and laughed. "Well if that don't beat all. You had me goin' there for a minute. Now what's this really about?"

Creed didn't move.

Fallon let out a low whistle. "No offense, but Paulie C don't hire mutants."

"I ain't looking to work for him. I need to know more about his organization."

Fallon took a big bite, groaned with cholesterol-fueled pleasure and thought for a minute. "Well, you know what you see on the news?"

Creed sat back and shrugged. "He's got a few strip joints, does some loan sharking, the usual shit."

"It's all bullshit. Well, not totally. It's real enough to keep the cops and the Feds chasing their tails all over hell and back. Keeps 'em away from his real business."

Creed tapped on the Formica tabletop with one claw. "Which is?"

"Ever hear of a drug called Panacea?"

Creed gave a derisive snorted. "I know it's just a rumor."

Fallon shook his head. "That's what most people think, 'cause that's what Paulie C wants 'em to think."

"That don't make no fuckin' sense. You got a product that everybody wants and you don't want people to have it?"

"He wants the _right _people to have it." He started on his second burger. "You know what it does?"

Creed shrugged. "What do any of 'em do?"

"Forgot. None of it works on you. I like a good Irish whiskey as much as anyone but the rest of that shit never got me excited. From what I understand though with most of them, you feel good for awhile and when you do you can't function because you're so damn high, and then the high goes away and you feel like shit and you can't function either because you're chasing after another hit." He took a long drink and finished the rest of the Coke. He rattled the ice in the glass and the waitress appeared with a full one. She disappeared into the kitchen again without another word.

"Panacea leaves out the feeling like shit part?"

Fallon nodded. "Leaves out the can't function part too."

Creed's eyebrows twitched. He'd seen a lot of people in chemically induced states. None of them seemed terribly functional in his opinion. "Paulie C discover magic?"

"'Bout as close as anybody could find. There's a few different stories goin' around. I've heard that Paulie C found himself a bona fide biochemist, I've heard that the chemist found him. Whichever way it went, mister smart guy chemist created a substance that mimics the pleasure response in the brain. Doesn't make it go apeshit like everything else does, it just makes everything extra nice. Keeps you happy, keeps you focused, makes you have nice dreams, makes sex better, all that shit."

"Sounds like what half the world is looking for."

Fallon grinned. "I guess it is. Course Panacea ain't all hearts and flowers. The user's gotta maintain a constant level. Miss a dose, even by a few hours and you get the crash, but then you go crazy."

"Meaning what?"

"Like that schizo disease crazy and there's no way to test for Panacea so doctors figure you just went nuts. Like selling your soul to the devil. Wish I'd thought of it. Anyways, the really beautiful part of Panacea ain't how it works, it's how he sells it."

The longer he listened the more pissed off Creed was getting. He'd managed to convince himself that this was about some Machiavellian plot that the frail happened to overhear. If she was in danger because of somebody's drug habit, he was gonna rip Stan's balls off, fry them up and feed them to him and then he'd start figuring out how to make the fat bastard suffer enough. He kept all of it out of his voice and off of his face.

"That somethin' special too?"

Fallon gave a short laugh. "Most guys got a hundred punk-ass kids running around pushing shit on street corners and anyplace else junkies might have the initiative to get to. The punks don't do it because they got any chance of getting away with it, they do it because they're too fuckin' stupid to do anything else." He leaned back and warmed to his subject, beginning to gesture as though he was giving a lecture. "One gets arrested, you get another. One starts dipping into the product more than usual or into the profit, you get another. You build in acceptable losses of people and product because you fucking know it's gonna happen. The cops don't stand a snowball's chance in hell because there's so many layers between the person in control and the cockroaches on the street. They step on as many as they can and figure they're doing the world a big fuckin' service."

Creed gave a little grin. "Where would we be without the war on drugs?"

"I don't know, but I'll tell you this; if you taxed all the shit there'd be no fuckin' deficit. Course a thousand government assholes in cheap suits'd have to find honest work. All in all, a small price to pay."

Creed chuckled a little. "So what does Paulie C do, take out an ad in the newspaper?"

"Think Amway. Market for Panacea is different. These ain't people looking for a quick high or an escape or whatever, they're looking for 'life enhancement'."

"Gotta love middle class America."

"Don't you just? Anyways, the young and upwardly mobile who want that extra little kick ain't gonna go crawling around in the shaky part of town looking at what's on the menu."

"They go to friends."

Fallon nodded. "Paulie C capitalizes on that. He makes the drug up to look like one of them vitamin horsepills. Calls it a natural supplement that works so well the FDA won't approve it because it'd put all the major drug manufacturers out of business. All bullshit, but appealing bullshit. He hand-picks distributors who want to feel like they're taking a walk on the wild side, gives them a slick little pitch, shows how they can generate a nice little stream of income by helping friends improve their lives. Every month the user gets a fresh bottle and since Panacea keeps you functional, nobody's losing jobs or dying or any of the usual shit. Supplier gets a cut, Paulie C gets the lion's share. Last I knew, he added a second tier."

"Person who brought 'em in gets a little somethin'..."

"Beautiful, ain't it?" Angry envy flashed across Michael Fallon's face. "Course fuck it up and there ain't no second chances. The one who fucked up and anyone he thinks knows too much has a convenient accident, he shifts the users to a different supplier until a new one can be found for that particular group."

"Well ain't he just the next Donald fuckin' Trump." Creed growled. He started to get up. "We're even."

Fallon waited until the taller man was on his feet. "This personal?"

Creed didn't turn to look at him. "'F it is, it's gonna stay that way." He walked out of the empty diner more pissed off than when he went in, but he had more direction too.

Over the long days of isolation, Kelly developed an observational relationship with the people in the building across the alley. Once she got used to the large windows, Kelly found that the lives unfolding in kitchens and family rooms across the way would catch her eye. The plump lady on the second floor struggles through an aerobics tape then downs a half gallon of ice cream. The dad on the third floor hides from his wife and kids whenever he can. The couple in the other apartment on the third floor fought almost constantly and when they weren't fighting they were in the bedroom, presumably making up. She had no desire to see the act itself, but it did make her wonder if she and Victor were the only two people who used the floor or the wall when the mood struck.

At first, Kelly only glanced as she walked by, but the longer Victor was gone the easier it was to get caught up in the silent, live action soap operas being played out mere yards away.

"The salesman kill his wife yet?" Conlon walked over to where she was standing. His presence was far more comfortable than it used to be. Each day he arrived just before lunch and left just after dinner unless she asked him to stay longer. If nothing else, his presence pulled her out of her own head and kept her more connected to the outside world.

Kelly laughed a little. "No, but I think the husband from the apartment on the left and the wife from the apartment on the right are having an affair."

He grinned. "What makes you think so?"

She started getting lunch on the table. "Because as soon as their respective spouses leave, he gets the kids off to school, then goes over to her place. I'm surprised he doesn't take his pants off in the hall. I made some pasta salad last night, want some?"

"Sounds good to me." He got plates and glasses out of the cupboards. "Think I've eaten better on this job than I have on any other one I've ever had."

Kelly smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment. When are you planning to go to the grocery store again?"

"Anytime you want. You need something?" He dished up some of the salad.

"I made a list." She picked it up of the counter and handed it to him. All very friendly, domestic, and painfully colorless.

Creed pulled into the garage at a little after eight in the evening. He'd been gone for twelve days, but it seemed more like twelve years. He couldn't remember carrying the weight of separation on his chest like this when he was separated from Jimmy, not even in the beginning when the kid was so weak and needy. Course, he'd never admit it to the frail or anybody else. He stretched when he got out of the car, and considered calling either Conlon or the frail. He knew their schedule. She should be alone. Didn't really matter. If she wasn't, she would be soon enough.

He grinned a little and started the elevator going up. When he hit the second floor, he typed in a second code to turn off the elevator chime. The element of surprise was always one of his favorites. Once inside though, he was the one who was surprised. The furniture and rugs were shifted slightly and the scent of floor polish tickled his nose. The soft sound of the shower filtered out to him. He got a beer out of the fridge and retreated to a deep pool of shadows to wait.

Kelly stood under the shower and massaged the back of her neck. She'd gotten Conlon to help her shift furniture and rugs so that she could polish the floor. He managed to convey stoic cooperation and long-suffering exhaustion at the same time. Still, she gave him credit for never raising a complaint about the heavy lifting. She took her time letting the hot water work the tension and soreness from her muscles. At least when Victor called again she would have something to tell him. The 'what have you been up to' question had been even tougher to answer than it usually it was. By the time she turned off the water, her muscles felt better. Her recently injured shoulder was protesting though.

She dried off and then noticed that there was only a pile of sweaty clothes on top of the hamper. She sighed, dried her hair, then wrapped the towel around herself and walked out of the bathroom.

"You in the habit of walkin' around half naked when I'm not here?"

Kelly jumped and clutched the towel between breasts. She recognized the rumbling voice, but she didn't see him until he strolled out of the deep shadows, a big grin on his face. He leaned casually against the kitchen counter, watching her.

She stepped toward him and then continued at a brisk trot. "When did you...?"

He let her approach until she was just about to reach out and touch him. A deep growl rumbled through his chest. She forced herself to stop, but she couldn't be still. She shifted from foot to foot when he started to slowly circle her. When he was behind her, he grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged her head to the side, exposing the side of her neck. Kelly let out a little moan.

"Never answered my question, frail. You in the habit of walking around half naked when I'm not here?"

She could feel his warm breath on her skin. The sensation made her knees tremble. "O-Only when I'm sure I'm going to be alone." She leaned back into him, and for a minute he let her.

"Not alone now, are you?" He tugged on the back of the towel. She held on tighter for a minute, then forced herself to relax her fingers. "Wise choice." Extended claws teased lightly over her tummy. "Gonna answer the question?"

"Yes – I mean – no." Kelly was starting to shiver. "I mean, I'm not alone now."

"What if I'd been Conlon? And you standing there with all that bare skin and not a fuckin' mark on you." Claws raked burning lines down over her stomach. Kelly whimpered and put her hand on the back of his. "What kinda message d'you think that sends to the casual observer?"

"D-don't know." Her eyes were closed. He was holding her up.

"Makes 'em question. Makes 'em think they might have a shot at what's mine." One large hand carefully cupped and massaged her breast. Her nipples were already hard, the teasing made her whimper.

"Fix it." It was a pleading whisper.

The rough side of his tongue traced the stretched muscle in her neck. "How you want me to do that, frail?"

"Make me scream for you." Her head was spinning. Her need was entrenched in her lower tummy, her juices were already wetting her inner thighs.

"And you're so fucking ready too, aren't you frail?" He bit into the muscle where her neck and shoulder met. Kelly gave a sharp little cry.

"Not good enough." His tongue soothed her shoulder, leaving Kelly wanting more. "Out loud."

Needy as she was, Kelly found a deep blush rise to her cheeks. "Y-yes. I need you so much. I have for days." She insinuated one hand between them and started to stroke him through the denim of his jeans.

A deep purring growl next to her ear. "On your back." He let go of her hair and gave a gentle shove.

Her legs shook as she walked toward one of the sofas. She could hear him undressing. The sound of the rustling cloth painted a vivid picture of his sculptured form and that alone made her need that much greater. By the time she turned he was close enough to touch her. He grinned. Kelly smiled back.

"Missed you." She whispered.

His lips captured hers. For the first time, her hands were free to wander. She followed the familiar contours of his back and sides. His hands moved over her as well. His claws retracted, his lips were almost tender. He broke the kiss and bumped his head against hers.

"What'd I say, frail?" It was a soft purr.

Kelly smiled and lay back. He settled between her legs and for just an instant Kelly felt a rush of fear shoot through her. For whatever reason, that made the moment better. He was inside her in one swift motion. The initial pain of the reunion was familiar. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, her fingernails biting into his broad back, spurring him on, driving her deeper into the intensity of the moment.

Kelly did scream, both from the pleasure and the stinging pain that his claws and mouth created as he definitively marked what was his. The trails her nails left were healed over before his final roar of release.

She drifted back to herself more slowly than usual. Sometime in moments between release and recovery he'd shifted so that she was laying on his chest. Her body ached. The pleasure swam through her head. His scent surrounded her. Fingertips, claw tips and the smooth backs of claws alternated as they drifted over her back and sides. In all, she was in a little slice of perfection.

He chuckled. "Grinning like the fuckin' Cheshire cat."

Kelly laughed softly. "It's all your fault. Coming back here, looking so good, touching me like you do..."

He shook his head a little. "Frail, you need your eyes examined."

She looked up at him.

He smirked. "Course I'll be goddamned if I'll let that happen."

She laughed and pressed a kiss over his heart. She relaxed against him again.

"Pizza or Chinese?"

She lifted her head and looked at him. "What?"

He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face with one claw. "We're leaving tomorrow morning and where we're going is in the middle of fuckin' nowhere so I don't think we're gonna have either one for awhile."

Kelly was silent for a long moment. "Victor-"

He wrapped a lock of her hair around one finger and he tugged until she looked at him. "You ain't really gonna argue with me."

Kelly sighed. "I don't want to argue." She moved to his side. He let her.

He shook his head. She could feel tension starting to creep into his muscles. "Frail-"

"Please, I'm just trying to understand. You said that one of the reasons you picked this place was because of the security system and it is amazing."

He glanced up at her. The tension was still there, but it wasn't getting any worse.

"I don't know as much about this stuff as you do, but I guess it just seemed to me that if no one can get in, staying here would be safer than leaving."

He pulled her head down against his shoulder. "I got two reasons for leaving. This place is in the middle of the city. Means there's too many eyes that see me come and go. Most of 'em don't notice and wouldn't give a shit if they did. Every time I come back here, or if I spend time here, the chances increase that somebody who does give a shit is gonna put two and two together."

She could feel some of the tension leaving his body.

"Other reason is if we stay, you're stuck in here."

"I know but-"

"But nothing. You been locked up enough."

She looked up into his eyes. The hardness that was usually there shifted for just a moment. He didn't need to say any more.

"Still wanna argue with me?" His fingers drifted through her hair.

She smiled a little. "No."

"Good. Pizza or Chinese?"

She kissed his shoulder. "Pizza."


	19. Assassin's Creed

Hi Everyone!

Thank you all so much for your comments, your compliments, your questions and your speculations. Every time I get a review alert or a story alert notification it makes my day! Again, another somewhat longer chapter than usual, but hopefully you won't get too bored in the middle. :)

Someone suggested a short recap because it takes so long for me to write each chapter, so here goes. In the last chapter, Victor finds out more about Paulie C and what his association with Stan might be. He also returns to the apartment in Chicago to find Kelly waiting for him.

As always, I don't own the X-Men or Victor Creed. I just like to play around with them now and then. :)

Let me know what you think!

psyche b

19. Assassin's Creed

A sharp knock at the bathroom door made Kelly jump. She stopped her contortions for the moment. "What the fuck're you doin' in there?"

"Trying to reach the scratches on my back." She stood naked in front of the wide mirror. Most of the scratches had stopped bleeding even before she got off the sofa. Still, a little peroxide was never a bad idea.

He opened the door. Kelly covered her breasts instinctively. "Why the hell didn't you say so." He put his hands on her shoulders, pushed her forward and studied her back. She braced herself with one hand on the cool countertop. "When did I give you those?"

Kelly shrugged a little. "I don't know, but I don't usually remember every single one."

He picked up a gauze pad and pressed it to the deeper part of the wounds. Kelly winced. "First time I ever heard someone say that."

"There's a point where the line between what hurts and what feels good kind of blurs." Her eyes were fixed on the matte finish faucets as she said it. "Probably means there's something wrong with me."

"Depends on who you ask and if you give a shit about what they say." He taped the gauze to her back.

She lifted her eyes to look at his reflection. "What you think matters to me."

He smirked at her. "Means I gotta be careful not to overindulge either one of us. Go on. I'll be out in a minute to clean it up right."

Kelly brushed past him and closed the door behind herself. She picked up her discarded towel and wrapped it around herself again. He was comfortable being casually naked in front of her. Kelly wasn't sure if she would ever be that comfortable with her own body. She got a glass of orange juice and sat sideways on the sofa to wait.

"No." He got a bowl out of the kitchen, then walked over to her carrying a small bag of first aid supplies.

"What?"

"Take the towel off, put it on the floor and lay on it on your stomach."

It seemed harder to move with his eyes on her, but she did what he said. She rested her head on her crossed arms and waited. She could hear him taking things out of the bag and lining them up next to her. He pulled off the hasty dressing and dabbed at the still-oozing wound.

"Is it deep?" She winced when he tugged at the edges of the wounds.

"Not too bad. If you stop squirming around it might even scab over. You manage to clean it out at all?"

"Just the shallower parts above it."

She could hear him open the bottle of peroxide. A moment later he pressed on her lower back and started dabbing at one of the wounds. Kelly bit back a whimper. The stinging eased and she took a deep breath. "Where did you learn to do this?"

"Why?" The question sounded even more guarded than usual. He started on the second wound.

She squirmed a little this time and he increased the pressure on her lower back just a bit. "Because you have a healing factor, it seems like you wouldn't need it for yourself."

His hand paused for a moment, then he started on the third wound. "I ever tell you how old I am?"

"No, but I guess I never really thought about it either." She turned her head a little bit, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He made sure to turn away.

"First time I was ever involved in a battle was at Fort Sumter South Carolina." He let the words hang there. It took Kelly a moment to process what she'd just heard. When she did, she turned fully to look at him.

"But that was during the Civil war."

He gave a derisive snort. "Wasn't a goddamn thing civil about it from where I was standing."

Kelly's mind was still reeling. "But that was in 1860-"

"1861." His voice was still matter of fact.

"Okay, but it was still-"

"It was a goddamn long time ago is what it was. Healing factor makes me age slower." He put his hand on her head and pressed it back down. "I gotta give you time to process that, or can I go on?"

She relaxed under his touch again. "I guess it makes some sense, if aging is damage and your healing factor repairs damage-"

"Didn't ask you to comment on the logic of it."

She smiled a little. "You can go on." She would need time, but it would be easier if she got the whole story at once.

"Anyway, medical care during the war between the states was basically shit. There weren't enough doctors. The ones there were didn't have anything close to the kind of training needed to deal with the major battlefield injuries they were seeing by the thousands. Course having a leg shattered or your guts blown out wasn't all that could happen to a guy. The little shit could kill you too because of infection, and the docs didn't have time for the little shit. Guys either took care of it themselves, or got help from someone else in the camp. I wasn't squeamish and didn't really give a shit how much someone yelled, I got the job done. By the time it was all over, I figure I learned about as much as the doctors, just in an unofficial way." He pressed firmly against all three wounds. Kelly groaned.

"You're good at it." Kelly turned her head a little and smiled.

A short laugh. "Better wait on that assessment until after the first time I have to stitch you up."

She turned quickly her eyes wide. "Stitch-?"

He grinned. "What? It ain't like I'd cut you that bad on purpose."

Kelly squirmed a little. "I'll have to hope that you don't have any accidents."

He chuckled, but before he could say anything his phone started to vibrate. He checked for a text message. "Conlon's back." He taped a fresh dressing over her back and pulled on his jeans. Kelly sat up and put the towel over herself.

"Is he eating up here?"

"Fuck no." He turned to look at her, his eyes full of suspicion and enough danger to make her tremble. "Missin' him already?"

She picked up the shirt he'd left behind. "No-"

He took a step forward. She stayed on the floor at his feet. "Then what?" There was a dangerous growl in his voice.

Kelly's heart was pounding. "I was thinking if he was going to be up here, I should probably wear more than this."

He watched her for a minute, then a slow smile spread over his face. "Should invite him up here." He squatted in front of her and grabbed a handful of her hair. His voice a dangerously seductive purr. "Make sure you're bare-ass naked." A soft nip to her lower lip. His eyes were locked on hers. "Make sure he sees every fuckin' mark, just to make sure he doesn't start gettin' ideas. Maybe you need a reminder too."

She stroked her fingertips over his inner thigh, a low growl stopped her just inches from his crotch. "The whole time you've been gone, the only ideas I've had have revolved around you being back again."

He move forward, his hand tightening in her hair. Kelly leaned back a little, she bit her lower lip hard. "You're a shitty liar, frail." She opened her mouth to protest, but he grinned. "You have got a way of telling the truth though." He let go of her hair.

She kissed his lower lip softly. "Not fair."

"Who said I had to be fair?" He toyed with her right nipple. "What I'm gonna do to you later ain't gonna be fair either. Won't stop me from doing it, won't stop you from loving every minute of it and begging for more."

Kelly reached out for him but he stood up.

"I want a beer when I get back." He went downstairs bare-chested. Kelly pulled on his shirt while he was gone. She got the distinct impression that any more clothing than that would have been as pointless as asking what was going to come later. She got his beer and set the table. The elevator chimed. He stepped out carrying an extra large pizza and a medium one.

"Bring that shit over here." He set the boxes on the coffee table. "I been sitting on furniture that's too fucking small for almost two weeks now. I wanna stretch out."

He watched her nibble at her second slice of pizza. She was resting on her hip, her feet drawn up under her. The hem of the shirt and her position maintaining her modesty but still drawing his eye higher. Her hair was tied back haphazardly, a few stray strands caressing her forehead and cheek. The wide neckline of his olive drab shirt revealed pale skin and darkening bruises as well as the beginning of a bright red raised scratch. He knew that one ran all the way down to her navel. He remembered how her pussy had tightened around him when he gave it to her. Almost as tight as she did when she came.

He'd listened to her when she talked about her grandparents and how her grandmother had finally started talking to her again. He didn't really give a shit about who wasn't talking to who or what the reasons behind it were. He knew it meant something to her, maybe that was good enough. After a few minutes she fell silent, but the relaxation that had settled around her was obvious.

Now he got to be the asshole who fucked everything up.

"Ever hear of something called Panacea?"

She looked up from her pizza. "Goddess of cures, or was it recuperation?"

That wasn't a direction he was expecting. "Cures. Where the hell did you learn that?"

She smiled a little. "You have a few mythology books in Maine."

He looked at her curiously. "You read those books once, if that."

"I have a good memory for things I read."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Frail you are full of surprises. That ain't what I meant though. There's a street drug called Panacea. So far as I can tell, Paulie C is the only one with the recipe."

A shrug with one delicate shoulder. "Okay." He could tell from the look on her face that she wasn't drawing any kind of connection between Stan and the drug.

He explained the marketing scheme as Fallon and his other contacts had explained it to him.

"And you think Stan is selling this drug?" She almost laughed. That pissed him off.

"What the fuck is so damn funny?" The deep growl rose in his chest. "Do you know how many favors I had to call in to get this information?"

She trembled and retreated. "I didn't mean to laugh. It's just...Stan's a lot of things, but I can't picture him selling drugs. Every time he spoke he talked about how drugs destroyed lives. It was the one thing he said that made any sense at all."

"Panacea ain't like any of that other shit. From what my contacts told me it don't change a person or give them a high, it just makes them feel like their best selves all the time. Once you start taking it, you gotta keep taking it though, otherwise it fucks up your brain. That ain't been a problem though, his target market has good jobs, homes, families and no reason to stop because everyone around them seems to appreciate the change."

She looked disgusted. "What an outstanding thing to hold over someone's head."

He nodded. "Might even get you a big new job."

"I just..." She started again. "He..." The scent of intense anger bloomed around her. He looked down to see he nails digging into her palms so hard that her knuckles were white. He recognized the murderous rage. Knew what it felt like when every cell was consumed with it. He pushed his thumbs into her curled fingers, forcing her to release the tension. She looked up at him. "All of this has been about money all along." The words sounded as though they left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Usually is." He uncurled her fingers and saw the deep indentations of her fingernails in her palms.

Her hands relaxed. "Does Cavallo know?"

He'd known the question was coming. With anyone else he would have either told the truth or come up with a serviceable lie on the spot. With her, he had to learn to equivocate. He looked away. "I got no proof one way or the other."

She nodded.

Desperate as Stan was and from what he could gather from other sources, he was reasonably sure that the cowardly asshole was trying to make a trade. The frail gets handed over like a sacrificial lamb, Stan hopes that Cavallo will forgive his little lapse. He'd seen it before. Participated in it. Seen the shocked and pained look on the sacrifice's face when he or she realized what was about to happen and who was behind it. She'd worry enough on her own without hearing his suspicions. He handed her plate back to her. "Eat."

"I'm not-"

"How much weight have you lost since I been gone?"

She blushed a little, her eyes were down. "I don't know. A little I guess."

He grasped her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "How much was that frail?"

"Three pounds."

"Three pounds you can't spare." He pointed at the plate. "Eat."

She started to nibble again. Creed knew it was just to please him, but he could live with that.

Kelly spent the next few hours doing laundry and getting things in order. He seemed content to lounge on the sofa. From time to time, she would feel his eyes on her. The sensation made her aware of how the hem of the shirt floated around her thighs as she moved. The apartment was cool and the sensation of the fabric in motion against her bare skin kept her nipples prominent. For most of the evening she tried to keep her back to Victor.

She was folding the last load of laundry when she heard him start up the stairs. "Don't be too long, frail."

She smiled over her shoulder. "I won't." Kelly finished up and left the folded clothes stacked on the top of the dryer. The need to be in his arms was almost a physical ache. She turned off the downstairs lights and trotted lightly up the stairs.

Kelly had expected to find him in bed, but she hadn't expected to find him naked with the covers pooled around his feet. The intense way he watched her made her hesitate. The fact that he was already erect deepened and changed the ache she was feeling a moment ago. She paused at the top of the stairs, just watching.

He smirked. "You gonna stand there all goddamn night?"

She blushed and walked toward him. "You surprised me." She pulled the shirt off and sat next to him. "If I had known you were in that state I would have hurried a little." She reached out to stroke his chest. When there was no reproach, she let her fingertips trace the slopes of his muscles.

"What kinda state d'you expect me to be in? Dancing around all fucking night." He pulled her into a hungry kiss. "Showing off that little ass of yours. Teasing me."

Her fingers drifted down to his stomach and then over the front of his hip. "Why didn't you say something?" Her mouth moved to his collar bone, feathering kisses over the hollow of his throat. A little tremor went through him, followed by a soft purr.

"Like what? Spread your legs a little more when you do that so I can get a better view of your pussy?" Claws bit into her hip just enough to make her shiver. "Question is, what are you gonna do about it?"

A little shrug. She started tracing the thick veins on his shaft with a teasing touch. "Depends on what I'm allowed to do about it." Her mouth moved down his chest, her tongue tracing around his nipple. His back arched. She felt the rumble of his growl. Her fingers grew more bold, wrapping around his shaft.

"You don't seem to need ideas from me." His fingers tangled in her hair. His hips rocked against her hand.

"No." She moved to the other side of his chest. Her tongue flickered over his other nipple, wetting it. "Seems like the last time I needed permission." She blew cool air over the wet skin. Claws bit into her scalp and shoulders as he arched.

He took a deep breath and eased the tension on her hair. "Well, let's just say you asked nice this time and I said yes."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you."

Her mouth continued slowly down over his stomach, stopping just long enough to tease his navel and draw surprised gasp. She smirked a little, then continued down to the hot, pulsing organ in her hand. This time, she wasn't afraid or uncertain. She got lost in the musky scent of him, the flavor of his sweat and the saltier, baser taste of the fluid that leaked from the tip of his member.

She swept her tongue around the swollen head, teasing the slit while he groaned and pushed forward. Kelly backed off with a little smile. When he relaxed again, she took more into her mouth, applying ever intensifying pressure as her head moved. Her fingers stroked his shaft, then moved lower to cradle and tease his sack. She could feel the tension growing there and in his stomach and thighs. She kept pushing that tension further, her head moving faster, hands applying just a little more pressure. When he was deep at the back of her throat she moaned. His back arched. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling her back up. His mouth covered hers in a bruising kiss.

When he pulled away she was breathless and he was grinning. "Promised to make you suffer."

"Don't you want to...finish first? I mean, I thought you were-"

He chuckled. "Oh I will. Hearing you beg will make it better." He pushed her onto her back and wrapped her hands around the spindles of the headboard. "You're gonna be a good girl and stay put, right?"

"I'll try."

A shrug and a grin that was made all the more lascivious by the presence of his fangs. "'F you don't, I can find some rope someplace."

Kelly drew her arms in to her chest, her eyes wide. "What are you going to do with-?"

"Keep misbehavin' and you'll find out." He looked at her wrists. Kelly moved her hands back to the spindles. "Good girl."

Kelly lay with her back against his chest. His body was wrapped around hers, his warmth suffusing her pleasure-weakened muscles. He'd kept her on the edge of orgasm for what seemed like hours, teasing her mercilessly with his tongue and lips until she was begging for release. That hadn't been enough though. It'd only made him stop long enough to laugh at her. When she began to cry, he'd relented, driving her over the edge with such intensity that she'd gotten lost in it for what seemed like days. Somewhere in her pleasure, she'd felt him enter her and not long after that had heard his roar of release. In those intense moments, it was far away and unimportant.

When she finally came back to herself, all the lights were off and she was tucked against his chest with her knees drawn up. Even though her relaxation was total, sleep was still elusive.

"Why aren't you asleep?" He murmured close to her ear.

"Why aren't you?" She countered.

"I asked you first."

A soft sigh. "I don't want to tell you."

He pinched a nipple softly. The touch was more soothing than arousing. Kelly sighed.

"Don't remember giving you that option."

"Please-"

"Frail."

"It's stupid and it'll upset you."

His touch was teasingly gentle as he played with the firm nub of flesh. "You don't want to leave."

She sighed. "It's not that. Your reasons make perfect sense. I just have a bad feeling. It's not rational-"

"Shit like that ain't supposed to be rational. Every instinct I got in me is telling to stay here and fight. All my training says I need to know what I'm going after 'cause if I go into this blind I just leave you more exposed. Never have been very patient I guess."

She smiled a little. "I don't know, you were pretty patient earlier."

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Told you you'd love every minute of it."

She turned her head enough to kiss his bicep. "I always do."

"Go to sleep. When you don't sleep you get cranky and when you get cranky you piss me off."

Kelly smiled. "You're the one who can spend a whole day communicating in growls"

"Yeah, but that makes you wet." He tightened his arm around her waist. "Sleep. Now."

Kelly laced her fingers with his and closed her eyes. She wasn't sure that she would sleep, but if she was going to lie awake this was a comfortable way to do it.

The next morning passed in a flurry of last minute details. When she was at the end of her to-do list Victor came upstairs with a cooler.

"Pack enough food and snacks for the two of us. I don't want you seen any more than absolutely necessary." Kelly nodded and started packing the food while he sat in front of the TV sipping a beer. She knew his calm lounging was a front, though someone who didn't know him as well might have missed the subtle signs. There was a tension in is jaw, an occasional twitch in his foot, the sound of one claw tapping on the glass bottle. She didn't want to think about how many years he'd been perfecting that particular ruse – and after his revelation about his age she wasn't sure that she wanted to speculate - but she knew calling him on it would only wound his pride. She packed all the food and drinks that would fit into the cooler. He glanced over at her when she closed the lid.

"All set?"

"Yes. Just let me grab my coat-"

"Nah, sit down for a few minutes. I don't wanna have to sit in traffic."

She sat near him and watched him flip through the seemingly endless parade of perky morning talk shows, game shows and soaps. Finally, he settled on InSession and proceeded to ignore the conversation the three correspondents were having about a trial Kelly had never heard of. She closed her eyes and starting running through her mental checklist, assuring herself that she had everything taken care of. What felt like seconds later, he was poking her shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open. "What?"

"You been asleep for the last forty-five minutes. I'm gonna take the cooler downstairs. I'll be back up for you in a minute."

Kelly nodded and yawned. She rubbed her eyes and got up, pulling on her coat and taking one last look around to make sure she didn't leave anything behind. When she was satisfied that she had everything she picked up the remote to shut off the television when the image caught her eye. Stan and her mother, standing in front of a crowd of reporters. She turned up the volume and sank back down to the edge of the couch.

"_...repeat, a body found nearly two weeks ago has been positively identified as that of Kelly Wilton, adopted daughter of Stanley Wilton, director of national youth outreach programs for the Church of Humanity. Mr. Wilton is expected to make a statement in just a few minutes. We don't know at this time if he'll be taking questions-"_

The camera focused on Stan and her mother again. He looked much as he always had, except he was wearing a better suit. Her mother looked as though she hadn't slept in weeks. She swayed on her feet, first left, then right. Stan gripped her hand and wrapped it around his arm, stabilizing her for the moment. A stone settled in Kelly's chest.

"_I-" _His voice cracked. Kelly had heard him practice that sound. He looked down at the podium, then back at the transfixed audience. _"I thought I could come up here and make a speech about loss and sorrow and trusting in God, but I can't. Our only daughter is gone."_

Her mother choked on a sob. So did Kelly. She saw through Stan's false sentimentality, but seeing her mother looking so fragile, so pained, it was more than she could take.

"C'mon frail..." Victor's voice barely registered. He sat down next to her. "Holy shit."

"_I don't have words to describe the shock...the pain." _He looked sadly into the camera. _"I don't think human beings have invented words for that kind of pain."_

"Where's Cody?" Kelly murmured.

"He's a kid-"

"He's a prop to bolster Stan's image as the perfect father. He should be there." She started to tremble. He shifted closer to her.

"_On it's own, this senseless tragedy would be enough to cripple any family, but now, so soon after our son's devastating injury-"_ His voice broke again. _"We ask that you keep us in your prayers during this time of trial."_

Kelly started shaking her head. It couldn't be happening. She couldn't have heard what she just heard. It had to be a ploy. A way to gain more sympathy from the public. A cruel joke. Anything but the truth.

Within minutes she was so fucking deep insider her own head that he could have set her on fire and she wouldn't have noticed, and for once he was glad. He got up, pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Link."

"I need medical records and I need 'em now." His eyes were fixed on the frail. Watching her as if at any moment she might shatter like glass.

A thick laugh. "Knew you weren't serious about that whole 'hiatus' thing."

His jaw clenched. "Shut the fuck up and find me the goddamn records."

"You caught me on a day when my crystal ball is in the shop. Mind giving me a name and a location?"

Creed growled. "Location is New York State."

"Where-"

"All of it. First name Cody, last name's either Demmer or Wilton."

He heard rapid keystrokes. The press conference was being replayed with commentary from an unseen reporter on the 'mutant angle'. He changed the channel. "Relative of your girl, huh?"

"That any of your business?"

"Just curious, on account of-"

"I don't give a shit why you're curious, it's none of your fucking business. You find the records or not?"

"Nothing under Demmer, but I got two Cody Wiltons. An old man and a kid."

"The kid."

There was a silence. "Damn. He's been in a coma for two days. Initial story on admission was a fall down the stairs. ER doc thought that was bullshit, but it looks like his superiors stepped in before that could be investigated."

"Send me everything you have access too." His eyes were on the frail. She was trembling. Her expression hadn't changed.

"Sent. Look, if-"

He ended the call, then checked his e-mail on the workstation in the apartment. He started everything printing and then went back to the frail. Not that he had a fucking clue what to do for her, but everything in him itched to do _something_. It was, admittedly, a new impulse. Still, it was one that he didn't question.

He squatted in front of her and studied her eyes. They weren't focused on anything happening in the present, but tears were still falling in slow streams. It occurred to him that he'd never seen her cry so openly before. A feeling akin to a low voltage shock radiated outward from his chest in pulses.

"Frail." There was no flicker of understanding. No indication that she'd even heard him. He brushed carefully at her wet cheeks. She didn't respond to that either. He moved forward and put his lips next to her ear. "I'm gonna get you someplace safe, then I'm going after Stan and I am gonna make him suffer like no one else has ever suffered. There ain't enough walls, or enough guns, or enough guards to keep me out."

No response.

He got up and checked the printer. The thick stack of pages was still coming, but he started to leaf through what was there. In the very beginning were pages of digital photos. The kind that doctors took when they were documenting suspected abuse for the police.

The kid was small, malnourished like the frail had been. The shape of his face was distorted by swelling and bruises. Some of the places had the pulpy appearance of swollen flesh over crushed bone. Another view showed the chest and abdomen. There was a deformation over the ribs on the right side. Hands and fingers were broken, probably in an attempt to fend off the blows. If this kid had fallen down stairs, the stairs had fists and wore heavy boots. Creed could see the pattern of the tread highlighted in blood and bruises.

He flipped forward through endless tests and consultations. The kid still had brain function and so far it was holding steady. He was making efforts to breathe on his own, and for now those efforts were holding steady too. A chance for some kind of recovery, if somebody didn't finish the job first. He dialed Conlon.

"Con-"

"Know anybody who can blend in at a hospital?"

Silence. "Maybe. Why?"

Creed sketched the particulars.

"Shit. How's Kelly?"

"How d'you think she is?"

"I have a couple ideas."

"Set it up. Fast."

He ended the call. They needed to get the fuck out of there. He turned off the TV and grasped the frail's upper arm carefully. "C'mon. We gotta go." He lifted and she got to her feet. She was trembling but she followed where he lead. Told him that she wasn't completely gone.

Creed drove north through Wisconsin. From the road, he called Joe, just to make sure he knew the reports of her death had been exaggerated. Thankfully, the old woman hated television and hadn't seen the broadcast. Joe would tell her what was going on before some well-meaning neighbor could. He wasn't sure how the old bitch was gonna take it, but that was Joe's concern.

He ate lunch when he changed vehicles, he even managed to get her to take a couple of bites. The rest of the time she spent curled up against the passenger door, her eyes unfocused but directed toward the scenery slipping by. Luxury car or rusty green pick-up, her position didn't change. He tried to ask questions, to draw her out somehow. Nothing worked.

She was never one to fill the silent spaces with too much chatter, but this time the silence was driving him fucking nuts. Maybe because her pain was so palpable.

"I tell you where we're going?"

She was silent, her eyes still toward the window.

He gave a little shrug. "It ain't much. In fact the whole fuckin' town ain't much. It's got a shitty bar, a general store and a gas station. Kinda place people pass through or disappear in." He glanced over at her. Some of the tension might have started to ease in her shoulders. Might've been his imagination too. "Cabin's a rental. It's small. Probably looks like a fuckin' shack compared to my other places."

The more he talked the more stupid he felt. He knew she was going to hate the place, and he knew that she wouldn't say a word about it and no matter what he said, none of that was going to change. Especially not when he couldn't even be certain she could hear him. He let the silence deepen again and let it stay that way while he followed the scenic route toward Minnesota and the Canadian border beyond.

He looked at the clock again and saw it was around ten. Conlon would already be at the rendezvous point. He still had another couple of hours to go.

"I was in the car with him." Her voice was flat, alien. Her eyes were still fixed on the darkness outside the window.

A sharp glance over at her. "With who?"

A little tremor went through her. "My father." That same flat tone. "It was nearly nine at night. My mother sent him to the grocery store for milk and eggs and I wanted to go. She said no, but he told her it would be fine and hustled me out the door. The store was only a couple of minutes away."

She drew a ragged breath. He could smell her tears, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road.

"We were singing a song I had learned at camp. The Cannibal King. He was pretending not to know the words."

He ventured another glance. A little smile touched her lips and then faded.

"I don't remember the crash itself, but we were hit on the driver's side. After...everything was quiet for a minute, like time stopped. Then I smelled the blood and heard him moaning. His head was-" Her voice broke. "I started screaming. He told me it would be alright, then he made me promise to take care of Cody until he got better."

"Frail-"

"I didn't!" The flat tone in her voice was replaced with pain.

"Bullshit!" He stopped in the middle of the quiet road and turned to her.

"It's not!" She turned to face him, her eyes blazing with anger.

"And just what the fuck have you been doing since Stan came into the picture? Sittin' back, staying out of harm's way?" He was angry too. Angry at how one pompous ass could presume to take so much from what was his.

Some of the fire faltered. "No, but-"

"No. You been putting yourself between Stan and the kid. You might've gotten used to me cutting you a little when I fuck you, but I know damn well you're not a masochist. So why'd you do it?"

"Cody was a baby, he didn't deserve-"

"And you did?"

"Of course I didn't! That's not-"

"So you did what you promised no matter what it cost you."

"Not this time!" She turned away. A moment later he smelled her tears.

"So how would you change that? Dawes would've killed you, either when you escaped that day I found you or soon after that. If I had let you go that morning you wanted to leave you wouldn't have fared any better and you damn well know it."

She was silent. "It felt so good to be safe for awhile." The words were barely above a whisper. He unhooked her seat belt, grasped her wrist and pulled her across the vinyl bench seat of the old truck. She came to rest against his shoulder. He started driving again.

"What happened to him?" Her voice was quiet, but it was hers again.

"Somebody beat the shit out of him." He felt her tremble. "He's in a coma right now, although it's possible he might come out of it. When we get to where we're staying I'll show you the records if you want."

"How did you get hospital records?"

He smirked a little. "Told you, everything's on a fucking computer somewhere."

"What if Stan finishes the job before Cody has a chance to get better?"

"I got people in there. If the kid's gonna get better, he's got the chance to do it."

She took a deep breath. "Victor-"

"We won't cross the border tonight. After we do it'll take another couple of days to get there."

Kelly recognized the diversion. She didn't push.

At some time in its existence, the Wildwood Cabin Court must have been on something approximating a main road. Kelly didn't want to speculate how long ago that was. The six tiny cabins were located on their own little cul de sac. Even though she knew the road they came in on was less than a quarter of a mile away, the thick trees and snow gave the impression that they were in the middle of nowhere.

Victor stopped next to the office. Kelly moved to get out, but Victor grabbed her arm.

"Stay."

She nodded and watched through the window as Victor talked to an old man in a patched plaid bathrobe. He got back into the truck and drove past another occupied cabin.

"Conlon." He answered the question before she had a chance to ask it.

"He's coming with us?"

He swung the truck around so that it was facing the exit before he stopped in front of the last cabin. It was slightly larger than the others. "He'll be in the area. Where we're going is so goddamn far from anything that I don't want to have to wait for him to get there if I have to leave."

He got out of the truck, so did Kelly. She jumped when she heard snow and frozen gravel crunching somewhere in the darkness. Victor scented the air, then went back to taking things out of the truck. "Might be wise to announce yourself."

"Thought you'd be here earlier." He took the bags from Victor's hands.

"Shit happens." He unlocked the door. Conlon turned the lights on. "Anyplace around here to get something to eat at this hour?"

"Bar about five miles north of here."

Kelly went into the bathroom. The two men would decide whatever they were going to decide. All she knew was that she was mentally and physically exhausted and hadn't had a bathroom break in what felt like forever. The small space was scrubbed clean, but the fixtures were out of date. A portion of the ceramic times were cracked, and whoever had painted the top third of the walls had trailed some celery green paint over the tops of the white tile. Someone still made an effort to keep the place up, even if it was an imperfect effort.

She washed her face with cool water and looked at herself in a mirror clouded with age. Logically, she knew she bore no guilt about Cody, that didn't keep her from feeling it. She just hoped that she wasn't wearing it on her face when she emerged. Victor stretched out on the bed, dwarfing the piece of furniture. A little smile touched her lips.

"Where's Conlon?"

"Getting us some dinner and don't tell me you ain't hungry."

She smiled a little more. "Actually, I'm kind of hungry."

He let her eat first, then he handed her the medical file minus the photo pages. The listing of injuries was enough, she didn't need to see every bruise in living color. He could see that she wanted to cry, but in her conscious state, she held back the tears, replaced them with anger. It was another coping mechanism he knew well, and it pissed him off to see her have to use it.

She nodded off, fully clothed, with pages spread out around her on the bed. He was relatively sure that she didn't understand half of what she read. Didn't seem to matter to her, she'd just kept scanning the pages until she couldn't stay awake any longer. He collected the pieces of the file, undressed, and got her out of her clothes. She mumbled something, but didn't really wake. He knew the deep exhaustion was mostly emotional. Didn't matter, as long as she got some rest. She settled easily next to him, and her scent sweetened.

Tomorrow, he would make sure that she called the grandparents. Make sure they know she's still alive.

Kelly woke up to Victor shaking her shoulder. She groaned.

"What time is it?" Her voice was a gravelly mumble.

"Almost seven-thirty. Get dressed. I want to be outta here by eight."

"Need a shower." She held the sheet over her breasts and grabbed her clothes.

"Tonight." He paused. She could feel his eyes on her. He knelt on the bed behind her. "How's your back?"

"It's okay." She rubbed at her eyes and sat still, allowing him to do what he wanted. He took the dressing off. She heard him sniff the air.

"Looks good." He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled her head back and to the side. She giggled when he nipped the side of her neck.

"Thought you wanted to leave by eight?" She turned and paused, her mouth just inches from his.

He grinned and kissed her hard. "Think I can't fuck you and be out of here in forty minutes?"

"I'd need a shower." She kissed his lower lip softly.

He moved back, fangs poking at his lower lip. "Maybe I'll let you blow me in the truck instead. Get dressed."

Kelly washed up and dressed. A strong wind buffeted the back of the cabin, making her shiver with anticipated cold. When was making sure she hadn't left anything behind, she noticed how threadbare the rest of the place was. Like the bathroom though, everything was clean and cared for. It was sad in a way. Once she was satisfied that she had everything, she stepped out onto the narrow porch with her bag. Victor was fussing with the cooler.

"What'd you do, pack all the food in the damn house?"

"No, just everything that would fit." She set her bag down in the bed of the truck. She raised her eyes to the thick brush across from the cabins. A movement caught her eye. She looked more closely and saw the outline of a crouching figure. "Victor!"

A gunshot rang out as he turned to look at her. His temple exploded. A warm spray of blood and tissue covered her face and the front of her coat. He hit the truck and then the ground, a red puddle forming around his head.

"Get back inside!" Conlon shouted. Another shot and he fell, blood soaking his thigh, then another hit him in the shoulder. The gun he held spun across the frozen gravel. He struggled toward it, trailing blood across the snow.

Kelly turned and came face to face with two men wearing white, black, gray and blue wintertime camouflage, their faces covered by ski masks. She turned and tried to run, but they grabbed her and lifted her off of her feet. She fought as best she could and managed to land a solid kick to the side of one's knee. She was rewarded with a scream of pain, but his grip didn't waver.

"Fucking bitch!"

Something jabbed into her shoulder and the world went gray, then black.


	20. In The Presence of Mine Enemies

_Hi Everyone!_

_I have to say I wanted to post this a bit earlier, but it was an incredibly difficult chapter to write. I knew what had to happen, but it was really hard putting characters I like through this. _

_A few notes, just in case I wasn't clear in previous chapters...Kelly knows Victor has a healing factor. She doesn't really know the extent to which it works, so she makes a logical assumption. The chapter title is a little piece of the 23rd Psalm. _

_To recap (as if you need it!): Kelly and Victor leave Chicago immediately following a news broadcast about Kelly's "death". The following morning, Kelly is abducted and Victor and Conlon are both shot in the attempt._

_Thank you reviewers and 'followers'! You guys are the best bunch of readers in the fanfic world!_

_psyche b._

20. In The Presence of Mine Enemies

The first thing Kelly became aware of was the rocking of a vehicle. It was a motion rather like floating in that she had no sensation of pressure against her body. For a split second, she thought she was simply waking up after too little sleep and an exhausting day. Rough, unfamiliar voices shattered that illusion. Icy fear settled like a rock in her chest.

"Goddamn it, can't you sit still?"

"Just shut the fuck up and drive."

Laughter, coarse and mean, came from a number of different sources. None seemed to be facing toward her, but she wouldn't have bet her life on that.

"Aww, still trying to hide the fact that the little bitch damn near broke your leg?"

"The cunt got in a lucky shot. Could've happened to to anybody." There was a forced off-handedness to his comments. Even in her groggy state Kelly could hear the anger in his words.

"Didn't happen to anybody, it happened to you." Someone countered.

Another round of laughter.

Kelly was starting to connect with her body again. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, the metal cutting into her wrists, her shoulders protesting the angle. The shoulder the drug had been injected into was protesting the loudest. Her ankles were shackled. The circulation there suffered too. She was certain she'd have raw spots from where the tight cuff forced her socks to rub against her skin.

"Look on the bright side," One of them said. "In a few hours we'll be on the plane and you'll be able to put your feet up."

"Sure. Put your feet up, get out your crocheting-"

"You either shut the fuck up or I swear I'll-"

"You ain't gonna do much without a head start."

More laughter. Kelly used the moment to try and move her fingers, hoping they would be too distracted to notice the weak movement. She had no idea how she was going to get out of the cuffs, or out of whatever vehicle she was in. She knew she had to have everything moving when she got the opportunity though.

The first movement was no more than a barely controlled twitch. When the banter continued she took a chance and flexed her wrists. Pain hit her and she winced. The side of her face felt tight, as if it were covered in dried-

The vision exploded behind her closed eyes. Victor turning, the shot tearing away flesh and bone and brain. Sending a thick mist of blood and tissue into her face. The sound his body made as it hit the truck and then the ground. The spreading puddle of gore, the twitches that racked his body before he went still. His vivid eyes going dull. Healing factor or not, he couldn't have survived.

Kelly squeezed her eyes shut against the memory. Either there would be time to grieve later, or they'd kill her before she could. She wasn't sure which prospect was preferable. Life without him was an unbearable idea, but to simply give up went against everything she was. She forced herself to stop thinking. Thinking was an agonizing distraction. She lay as still as she could while flexing her muscles, restoring sensation and blood flow while she listened to the conversation going on in the front of the vehicle.

"Where the hell are we goin'?"

"Airport."

"What kind of an airport is all the way out here in the middle of goddamn nowhere?"

"A private one, asshole."

"What? You thought we were just gonna carry her onto a commercial flight? 'Scuse us, we're just your average hard-working kidnappers and we need to get this bitch from point A to point B. She's completely unconscious so she won't be needing headphones or drinks or any of them little bags of peanuts.' I don't see any problem with that, do you, Clay?"

"Course not." Clay had a lisp. Kelly filed that little fact away.

Laughter. At least the conversation was proceeding unchecked by her efforts. Judging from the way the sound reached her, she assumed that she was in the cargo area of some kind of SUV. At least that afforded her some small measure of privacy. Only a very small measure, but if they were interested in each other and she were careful she might have half a chance. Now all she needed was a way to get out of the cuffs and plan for what to do after she did.

She could feel blood flow returning now, bringing pain with it. Kelly forced herself to stay silent, keep moving and focus on the conversation.

"Aw c'mon guys, it's his first real 'away from home' job." A different voice. Deeper than the others, and further away.

"So what?" Clay lisped.

"So, I'm sure he wants to tell his mommy what a good job he did."

There was a moment of silence and then more laughter. Kelly only half paid attention to the substance of the conversation. It was little more than barbs and anger directed at one target or another. Listening allowed here to put names with two more of the voices. She didn't know if that would help, but she filed it away anyway. Luther had the deeper voice. He didn't say much, but when he did the others listened. King, the one she'd kicked, spoke in the harsh tones of New York City. There was one more, but the others didn't use his name.

The road had become rougher. Each time she bounced against the floor her shoulder and hip hurt even more. She held back the groans and whimpers, but the tears were another matter. She hoped none of her abductors were feral. Victor could always smell her tears-

Her heart contracted painfully. She forced that thought away and focused on the her present situation. She doubted she'd be able to get away, but she might be able to raise enough of a fuss to call attention to herself. Or maybe they'd just kill her. Either way, she would only have one shot. Kelly started to use the jostling of the vehicle to try and work her hands down around her feet so that they would at least be cuffed in front of her.

It seemed to take forever, her body protesting ever little movement. Eventually though, she succeeded. She had to work at controlling her breathing. They thought she was still unconscious or they would have checked on her. Giving up her one miniscule advantage was unthinkable, so she forced herself to stay in roughly the same position they'd put her in. Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long.

The vehicle took a sharp right onto an even worse road. The talk shifted to private planes. When the vehicle slowed, Kelly readied herself. Finally, they stopped.

"You need help?" Luther asked.

"Nah, I got it," King said.

"Course he has. She's unconscious, she can't kick anymore," Clay said.

"You ought to be a fucking comedian," King said.

Kelly heard four doors slam shut, one right after the other, and the four men continue to talk. Three of the voices sounded like they were moving away, the fourth sounded close by. In the tinted glass Kelly could see that King was watching the others. She shifted quickly so that she was on her back, her body tightly curled, feet pointed toward King. When the door raised high enough, she slammed both feet into him. One in his stomach, one lower. He was stunned into silence and doubled over, his shocked eyes on hers. She kicked again, catching him squarely in the face.

"HELP ME!" She screamed at the empty airfield. The groaning man tried to grab her, but she hit his arm with both her clasped fists. He let go just long enough for her to get past him. She started to trot across the asphalt as fast as her shackled legs could move. The whole time screaming for help, trying to ignore the sound of men running after her. No one else at the airfield seemed to notice or to care.

Kelly kept screaming until she felt someone hit her from behind. The short chain between her ankles meant she she fell easily. The one who tackled her had her arms pinned to her sides. Her forehead slammed into the pavement. Stars exploded behind her eyes.

"Thought you were pretty smart, didn't you cunt?" She recognized Clay's lisp. He slammed her head into the ground again. This time, the world went to a fuzzy gray.

She struggled, trying to shake his grip.

"Still feel like fighting with me? Woulda thought spending all that time with that asshole Creed would've taken some of the fight outta you." He pulled her head back again.

"Goddammit Clay! The deal was she gets there in one piece. Her corpse and a jar full of brains ain't gonna cut it."

"Then why the fuck didn't you give her enough of that shit to start with?"

"I did," Luther said.

A needle jabbed into the back of Kelly's thigh. The drug burned as he pushed it into the muscle. "For all we know Creed's been keeping her dru-..." Blackness enveloped her again.

In the beginning, limbo was simply an absence. An absence of light and darkness, of sight and scent, of touch and sensation. The absence of those ordinary things troubled him. In the beginning, he had no idea why they were gone. There was something familiar in the not knowing, something that told him to wait. The knowledge of why would be back, and probably sooner than he wanted.

The memory of scents came first. Danger. Fear. Injury. Blood. Death. They were the first because they were the ones he knew best. They formed the fabric that all the others were embroidered into. At least, so he thought. Eventually another scent came that was separate from the others. A sweet scent. Clean. Like sugar and vanilla. Female. Even in this place of drifting, the memory of the scent calmed him and drew his focus.

The complete palette of scents bloomed him his memory. Injury, blood and fear were still there, but they were of a variety unique to her. There was also calm, arousal, orgasm, relaxation and his scent mingling through hers. Almost becoming part of it.

_His._ Whoever she was, she belonged to him.

The memory of sensations came next. All the pain that he'd experienced and the pain that he'd inflicted. The way warm blood felt on his skin and how that feeling changed as it cooled and dried. Apart from all of that, in the place inside him reserved for the sweet scents, the feeling of soft skin pressed against his. Small hands that pulled him closer.

A soft laugh. The sound of his name spoken with a smile in her voice. Eyes the shade of blue-green sea glass, sparkling as she looked at him. Smiling at him. As if he were a man and not a monster. The rest of the sights and sounds that danced through his drifting mind were less important.

His frail. His Kelly. His-

The pain hit hard and he arched against the bed, his own roar filling his ears. Limbo and dreams were replaced by explosive, bottomless agony. It was a state he was familiar with, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.

Kelly woke up on a narrow cot in a small, steel room. Everything hurt. Her mouth felt as though it had been packed with sawdust. Moving seemed like too much of an effort, so she closed her unfocused eyes again, hoping for the escape of sleep. When it didn't come she opened her eyes and forced herself to sit up. At least the handcuffs and shackles had been taken off. Someone had taken her shoes away too.

When her vision cleared, she started to take in more of her surroundings. The room was little more than a metal box. On the left wall there was a toilet/sink combination. On the right wall there was a narrow table that seemed to made out of the same piece of steel as the wall. A single stool sprouted from the metal floor, like an angular mushroom. The seam around the door was the only indication that she wasn't sealed in completely. A small window was covered from the outside. A slot large enough to fit a food tray through was the only other break in the door, but it was covered with its own solid door. Something seemed wrong about that. Someone had to be watching her, didn't they?

She scanned the room again and noticed a vent in the ceiling. It looked out of place amid the other smooth surfaces.

"Who's out there?" Her voice cracked, her face was turned up toward the vent.

Her question was met with silence. She hadn't really expected anything else, but she'd had to try. Kelly sighed and decided she had to try and banish the dry feeling from her mouth. She got up slowly and used the wall for support on the few steps to the sink. She turned on the cold water, made a cup out of her hand and swallowed as much as she could.

After her mouth felt better, she stood up and caught her reflection in the small mirror. One side of her face was splashed with dark blood. Victor's blood. Her tears had formed trails in it. The other side was caked with thick rivulets of blood from the bruised and swollen cut on her forehead. All of it made her stomach turn. She cleaned the blood and gore from her face and neck as best she could. Kelly looked at herself in the mirror again.

Victor had called her a survivor, but at that moment Kelly wasn't at all sure that's what she wanted to be. Surviving would mean being without him and that was something she just couldn't envision. She made her way back to the hard cot, curled up and went back to sleep.

Kelly stared up at the smooth metal ceiling. She could see the indistinct shape of herself reflected in the steel, staring down at her. Her body ached from all the time she'd spent on the thinly padded metal bench and the various bruises she'd acquired either from the rough transit or her unsuccessful escape attempt. She'd been given what she presumed was food in brown paper bags, but she hadn't bothered to investigate. After awhile – she had no way of knowing how long – the squeaky food port would open again and the bag would be taken away.

Victor would have hated that, but Victor was gone. She forced herself to stop thinking about that. Grief wouldn't serve her now, but numbness would.

Kelly knew better than to think that there would be a miraculous rescue this time. Conlon might have survived the attack, but he would have no obligation to her now. No one was coming for her. She held no illusions about getting out alive. Whoever had set this up was likely to have more security than she could contemplate. The best she could hope for was to give her captors exactly nothing they could use. Maybe they would decide it was a waste of time and kill her.

She sat up and stretched before taking the few steps to the sink for a drink of water. Absently, she wondered if they could shut it off from somewhere outside the cell. She supposed she would eventually find out. She glanced in the mirror. The bruise on her forehead was still gaining color and size. That told her she'd been there a day, maybe two at most.

She turned back toward the bed when the door opened quickly. She turned, but before the shock could wear off, three men rushed in. Something was jammed into her ribs, and then blinding pain of an electrical shock sent her to the floor. Still reeling from the pain, her hands were cuffed behind her, and her feet shackled together again. They half carried, half dragged her down a dimly lit cinderblock hallway to a small room at the end. It was painted an institutional white and tiled in white linoleum. There was a metal chair in the center and she was secured to it. A man in a dark suit waited with his back to the door. All but one of her 'escorts' left, locking the door behind themselves. Her head had cleared, but she wasn't going to be the first to speak.

"You are a great deal more trouble than we expected, Miss Demmer." He was still facing the wall, but the voice was cultured, calm. He had the hint of an accent she couldn't readily identify.

"Good." Her eyes were fixed on his back, drinking in details. He was slim and balding. What hair he had was graying and cut close to his scalp.

The hint of a chuckle. "You assume this has to be an adversarial process." He still hadn't turned to face her.

"Excuse me, I must have been confused by being shot at, drugged, handcuffed, kidnapped, locked in a cell and shocked." She turned her head to glance at the other man. He stared at the wall impassively.

The man in the suit turned to face her, a cold smile on his thin lips. "Some invitations take a bit more effort to deliver." A gold watch chain sparkled against the black vest he wore. A long, jagged scar ran from the the corner of his right eye to the corner of his mouth. "Let me begin with introductions. I'm Bern Müller."

"And him?" Kelly tilted her head.

"He's irrelevant. Of course, it's up to you whether or not he stays that way." The words were polished, oily almost.

"Of course." Kelly couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

Müller's thin eyebrows rose. "You sound as if you don't believe me."

"You really expect me to trust you?"

A little nod. "We've only just met, Miss Demmer. I could make your stay here considerably more pleasant, if you answer my questions honestly." He began to walk and gesture with one finely manicured hand.

"More pleasant how?" She looked at him curiously.

A broad smile, this time it reached his light blue eyes. "That's the spirit. Well, in the beginning, small things. For instance, I can see to it that the light in your cell is dimmed at night. All you have to do is answer one question I already know the answer to."

"Then why have me tell you?"

"Let's just say, it's a way for us to begin to build confidence in each other."

"What's the question?"

He stopped in front of her, his eyes on hers. "Who was the feral mutant you were traveling with?"

Kelly's eyes were locked on his, anger rose in her chest. "What mutant?" The words were deliberate.

He stood straighter, his eyes appraising. "There is nothing to be gained by being obstinate, Miss Demmer." An insincere smile. "Since this is our very first meeting though, I'll give you one more chance to reconsider. Who was the feral mutant you were traveling with?" The question held a sharper tone this time.

Kelly took a breath, but he interrupted before she could answer.

"Please, bear in mind that there there will be consequences for your answer this time."

Kelly looked at him, letting the silence stretch until she saw the corner of his mouth quiver with impatience.

"What mutant?" she asked.

Müller sighed. "You leave me no choice." He made a small gesture to the other man.

Kelly only had a moment to study the sadistic grin on his face before the back of a hard fist crashed into her left cheek. Her head snapped to the side. Pain exploded along with stars. His fist came down again, this time catching her eye.

"Enough." Müller's voice was quiet, but commanding.

Kelly saw through her swelling, watering eye that Müller's henchman was poised to deliver another blow. Instead he retreated somewhere behind her.

He studied the side of her face closely. "I dislike using such brutal tactics, Miss Demmer."

"But you're not above doing it."

"We all do what we must." A sad little smile. His eyes were as hard as ever. Müller walked away to study the wall again. Kelly was fairly certain that he was waiting for the pain of the fresh injuries to subside before they continued. Fear and anger fought for dominance. Kelly fought to clamp down on both.

Müller began to speak, his face still toward the wall. "Let me explain how this will work, Miss Demmer. " He turned and began to pace slowly in front of her. The heels of his dress shoes made sharp, threatening contact with the tile on each step. "You have some information that concerns my employer."

"Your employer?"

He looked at her sharply. "The one who pays me. Surely you've heard that word before."

"Who-"

"Each day, we will speak. If you answer my questions truthfully, you'll be rewarded. If you lie to me, or if you refuse to answer," he turned to look at her. "Well, you've had a small taste of what my assistant is capable of. Do you understand?"

Kelly clenched her teeth. "I don't know anything."

"We know that isn't true." Another smile. "Now, allow me to show you that I am a man of my word when I say you'll be rewarded. Tell me the name of the feral mutant you were traveling with and I'll dim the light in your cell tonight."

Kelly's eyes narrowed as she looked at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but again he interrupted before she could.

"I can understand that you might feel as though you're betraying him, but I can assure you that you're not. You saw him die in a rather graphic way from what I've been told. There's no longer anyone to betray."

Kelly closed her eyes and forced herself to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. When she opened her one good eye, the corner of Müller's mouth was twitching again.

"What mutant?" Her eyes were locked on his.

"You do tend to make things difficult for yourself, don't you Miss Demmer?" He retreated to the wall and a hard fist crashed into the other side of her face.

Müller asked the question two more times. Each time she gave the same answer and each time the beating she got for her defiance got worse. When she was hauled back to her cell, she was drifting in and out of consciousness. That didn't stop them from shocking her again to take the cuffs and shackles off. There were moments in the middle of the last beating that the pain seemed unbearable. The idea of giving in was even more repellant.

For awhile, she stayed curled up on the floor. Eventually, she managed to get up and wash the blood off her bruised face. She leaned heavily on the wall to get back to the narrow bench.

Creed sat straight up and looked around, the crushing pain kept his senses on full alert. He'd expected a cell or a lab, instead he found himself inside the same shabby cabin where he'd spent his last night with the frail. A pile of bloody bedding was in the corner. He was clutching one of the frail's blouses. Conlon lingered in a corner of the room, his eyes wide.

He growled, his claws extended. "The fuck'er you starin' at?" He got up.

Conlon pointed to his temple. "Your head is still...not healed."

"Think I don't know that?" He found the cooler and rifled through it. A couple of beers and what looked like a stock of takeout boxes from the bar up the road. It had been shitty when it was hot. Cold it was worse but his healing factor need the fuel. He started eating cold burger and fries. "Where's the frail?"

Conlon shifted and looked away.

A low, dangerous growl. "Conlon-"

"She was gone before I could recover enough to use my mutation."

He roared. "GONE?" He grabbed the smaller man by the throat and lifted him off his feet. "Gone meaning what, exactly?"

"Taken." The word had a strangled sound.

The word hit him harder than the bullet had. He tightened his grip on Conlon's throat, his claws digging in, drawing blood. "You better give me a goddamn good reason to keep you alive." He eased the pressure just enough to let Conlon draw a breath.

"Think I know who has her."

Creed dropped the smaller man. "You know where?"

"If I'm right, yes." Conlon coughed and rubbed at his bruised throat.

"Then what the fuck are we still doing here?"

"It took some time to get the information I needed without being too obvious about it." The smaller mutant got up slowly. "Besides, half your head was gone. I figured if I was going to go riding around with someone who looked like he belonged in Zombieland, I ought to have a good idea of where the hell I was headed."

Conlon started to cough. Creed ignored him and looked at himself in the mirror. Wet, red flesh was just beginning to encroach on newly grown white bone. "It's just ugly and it hurts like a motherfucker. Get your shit together. "

Creed had an amorphous memory of the incident. He remembered the frail screaming his name and the impact on the side of his head. After that, fucking space aliens could have abducted her for all he knew. It was more than he usually remembered after being shot in the head. It still wasn't enough.

"Well?" He had just about finished off the last of the takeout. Even without looking he knew that flesh had nearly covered bone again. For the moment, he let Conlon drive.

It didn't take long to fill in the blanks on the incident itself. The whole thing lasted less than two minutes.

"CoH?" Creed asked.

"No. This was too organized. I thought FoH at first, then I recognized the sniper as one of Cavallo's 'exclusive' guys."

Creed looked over at him. "You were the only other person who knew where we were going."

"Not the only person who saw you once you got there."

"The old man?"

Conlon nodded. "I recovered enough to fry the sniper before he could take off the other side of your head. Kelly and the others were gone already. Took me a little longer to recover enough to start trying to figure out how they found her in the first place. I figured if someone had seen you on the road they'd have followed you and you'd have noticed that. The only one who might have seen you and her was he old man at the motel."

Creed growled. "You're trying to tell me he was hooked up with Cavallo?" The idea was ridiculous.

"No. Once I was moving again he and I had a little...discussion. I found out that he's CoH. He saw Kelly sitting in the truck. He'd missed the whole death announcement, so he called Stan's hotline. I'm guessing Stan doesn't really believe she's dead either and he contacted Cavallo. I can't be sure, but I don't know how else that part would have gone."

Nervousness put a sharp tang in the air around the other mutant, but Creed couldn't detect any deception. "You kill him?"

Conlon shrugged. "What would you have done with him?"

Creed nodded. "Find out anything afterward?"

"Nah. Lots of CoH 'literature', but other than that, no phone, no TV, no family photographs. We were the first guests in at least six months. Only letter I could find was from a lawyer letting him know that he inherited the place from a brother. If he's got other family, they don't keep in touch."

Creed nodded. It pissed him off that he hadn't been the one to make the old man pay. Conlon could manage a simple kill and probably a good bit of fear, but he was certain the old bastard got off easy. "How long was I out?"

Conlon glanced at him. "Three days."

"Three-" Creed felt sick to his stomach. "She's fucking dead." His voice was flat.

"Not if I'm right and Cavallo has her." He turned off the main highway.

"He's got a generous streak?" The angry growl came through. He glanced at the road and decided it didn't really matter where they were going if there was a corpse at the other end. She didn't _feel_ dead though. That was fucking stupid. He knew it. Didn't change the feeling. He looked over at Conlon. "Well? Does he?"

Conlon gripped the wheel tighter. "I wouldn't exactly call it generosity."

"Playing twenty fucking questions is only going to piss me off more than I already am."

"Cavallo..." He took a deep breath. Creed could almost hear him trying to figure out which version of the truth he wanted to tell. "He figures just killing someone who might know too much is missing an opportunity. 'Underestimating the extent of the person's knowledge' is how his soldiers always put it. He'll keep her alive until...until he doesn't think she can tell him anything else."

"Until he's broken her." Creed supplied. "Where would he take her?"

"Home territory, New York State. He built himself a private prison bunker a few years back. Six pre-fab cells an interrogation room and basic support facilities, all wired with video and audio."

"He doesn't give a shit about what she knows. He just likes to watch." He growled and dug his claws into the door, his anger barely controlled.

Conlon shifted uncomfortably. "Either way, it's not in his interest to kill her right away. She's a fighter-"

"She's a frail." _A frail who isn't even twenty and who weighs about a hundred pounds soaking wet, _he thought. "We need to get to an airport."

"That's where we're going. Be there in twenty minutes. The plane should be waiting. Figured under the circumstances you wouldn't want to go commercial."

"Fucking right." Creed stared straight ahead. He rubbed the simple silk blouse between his fingers. "Where'd I get her blouse?" He'd only put it down long enough to get dressed.

He caught the sidelong glance Conlon gave him. "You were...agitated."

"Yeah, well, regenerating half a brain will do that to a guy."

"You were..." Conlon kept his eyes away from Creed's. "I thought the scent of her..." His hands tightened around the wheel. "I figured you'd heal faster if you were calm."

Creed didn't want to know what he'd said or done. He didn't put the blouse down either. He held onto it as if it were his anchor in a sea of rage. Some of it was directed at Stan and Cavallo, most of it was directed at himself. He'd fucked up and now she was paying for it. He wondered how long he'd be able to stand the ache he felt in his chest, and how much worse it would get if he didn't get to her in time.

Kelly's second meeting with Müller lasted longer. The chair had been moved into the corner of the room along with a small table. The chain of the handcuffs were attached to a hook dangling from the ceiling. The shackle chain was secured to the floor, forcing Kelly to stand on her tiptoes. The position itself was painful.

"I realize you're uncomfortable there," Müller said. "But, it does provide my assistant with more options." An oily smile. "Not that I think we'll need them today."

Müller spent a good portion of the time reading to her from a thick file. The people Victor had killed, the ones he'd tortured, the women he'd raped and mutilated and either left for dead or killed outright. Each act was described with a detached brutality and delivered with the force of a punch to the gut.

The pain in her arms and shoulders gave her something else to focus on. Kelly no longer had any illusions about what Victor had been. He'd dispelled most of those himself, whether directly or indirectly. The fact that he was gone had no bearing on the fact that in her heart she was Victor's and would remain so for as she lived.

"Miss Demmer?" he asked. Kelly realized that he'd been silent for awhile.

"He's dead, right?" Her voice was flat.

He nodded. "You can tell me his name without fear of retribution."

The corner of Kelly's mouth twitched into a little smile. "Whose name?"

An electric bolt of pain shot through her. Before she'd fully recovered from it, a second one followed.

Creed crouched in the snow, Conlon at his side. The smaller mutant was shivering, but he didn't feel the cold. His attention was focused on what appeared to be a small shack at the edge of a clearing. A single guard had worn an icy trench in the snow as he paced, gun slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

"He it?" Creed didn't take his eyes off the single man.

"Out here. Inside there should be eight more, plus one interrogator."

Creed figured sixteen plus two, just to be on the safe side. "For one frail?"

"You'd want to commute here?" Conlon looked over at him, Creed's eyes were fixed on the doorway and the bored man in front of it.

"What's beyond the door?"

"Elevator. Last I knew it took a key to operate, but the guard has one. If he's upped his security-"

Creed growled. "We get in anyway."

"We might be able to get in, but as soon as those doors open they've got us. There are cameras in the elevator. One of them will be watching the monitors."

"You can't cook 'em through the walls?"

"Not very efficiently." Conlon shifted nervously.

"I don't give a shit about efficient, I just need a few seconds." Creed glanced at the other mutant. He was still useful for the moment. When he stopped being useful, Creed wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do with him. "How'd you end up working for Cavallo anyway? I heard he don't hire mutants."

Conlon shrugged. "He doesn't usually. He doesn't like people to know his daughter is associated with him though, so I guess he figured going against his usual rules would contribute to that. Once I was in, I got to know one of the guys who helped design and build the place."

Creed glanced at him, his eyes narrow. "How'd you manage that?"

"Giada was fucking him."

Creed knew he was telling the truth. He checked his watch. He needed to be in there. The frail might be a scrappy little thing, but she was still so fucking fragile. Something told him to wait. He crouched there for nearly an hour more. The lengthening shadows of evening gave way to true darkness and finally there was an unfamiliar movement at the small building. The guard's replacement emerged.

Creed moved silently and swiftly around the clearing until he reached the closest point of concealment. Conlon followed more slowly. Creed nodded to him and saw Conlon concentrate. A moment later he could smell a faint whiff of burning flesh and one of the two men grabbed his chest in silent panic. Creed took the other one. He sliced cleanly through his throat. Crimson blood sprayed across the snow. Conlon could have done it all, but this was personal. Creed needed to get his claws bloody. He dropped the twitching corpse like the garbage it was and looked at it with disgust.

"Find the goddamn keys. They'll be expecting someone to go back down now." He started to search through pockets.

Kelly drifted in and out of consciousness on the floor of her cell. She vaguely remembered losing consciousness when she was still suspended, but at some point she woke up with the cool steel against her cheek. The cold was almost comforting. She was sure she had never endured so much pain. Stan had liked to hit her, but he had been as lazy about that as he was about almost everything else. Dawes had put more gusto into his beatings, but his age was against him in both strength and stamina.

Müller's 'assistant' was neither aged or lazy. She knew her ribs were broken on the left side, probably the right too. Her stomach was blackened with bruises, and the pain of every breath extended down the front of her body. Kelly hadn't looked for them, but she knew there were small round burns on her sides and arms from the stun gun they liked to use on her. The cuffs had cut into her wrists sending trickles of blood down over her arms.

She turned her head so that the other side of her swollen face rested against the cold floor. The small movement made her head spin. For a moment, the pain and pressure there increased. Either it subsided, or she became accustomed to the shift in agony. Kelly kept telling herself that either they would give her time to recover, or Müller wouldn't be able to get any information out of her. That fact alone almost made Kelly smile.

She began to try and make her way toward the cot, but her muscles were too sore and weak to cooperate. Just the effort brought tears to her eyes. Kelly stayed where she was and worked on retreating through the pain into her warmest memories of Victor. The times just before they fell asleep when she could hear his heart beat, when his claws teased through her hair and then down over her neck. That always made her shiver and then relax. As long as she could hide from the pain in that pleasant construction, she thought she might be able to tolerate the process of dying.

Before she could sink fully into those warm memories, the door slammed open again. Kelly moaned and braced herself for the painful blast of electricity. She cried out when the pulled roughly on her shoulders, dragging her down that hallway again. The terror of it was almost too much to bear. She struggled weakly and one of them slammed the side of her head into the cinderblock wall. Kelly could feel the flow of blood start again.

They dropped her in the middle of the room, her hands secured to the floor. This time all three of them stayed.

"I see you're more awake now, Miss Demmer. Shall we continue?" Müller smiled his cold little smile.

"Sure. You can kill me before I give you anything. What would your employer think of that?" She started to cough. Agony ratcheted up in her broken ribs. A mixture of blood and saliva spattered the floor in front of her.

Müller gave a little shrug. "My employer wants many things, information is only one of them. Besides, I've been doing this a long time. Letting yourself be beaten to death isn't as simple as it might sound. The human survival instinct is a difficult thing to overcome, even if you want to." He sat down again. "I must say though, the level of your defiance has surprised me. I'm willing to sweeten the pot a bit. If you truthfully answer the question I ask, I'll see that your wounds are treated and that you receive pain medication. I'll also suspend these sessions for the next three days."

She lifted her eyes. "Whatever will you do with yourself?"

"I started reading _David Copperfield_ just before I got this assignment, I might return to that." Müller gave that maddening little smile again. He turned the pages of the file. "Now, we were discussing your mutant's sexual proclivities. Maybe you're not shocked because he's raped you as well."

Kelly kept her head down. Her eyes darted from Müller's polished dress shoes to the three pairs of scuffed black boots. The mood in the room shifted to something even more terrifying than the threat of bruises and broken bones.

"Perhaps not." Müller said. "Perhaps that's why you're not shocked, you don't fully understand the horror of it."

Kelly was certain the terror that gripped her would stop her heart completely. She raised terrified eyes to Müller.

There was a sadistic glimmer in his eye. "Ah, a reaction at last. Perhaps we should take advantage of it to expand Miss Demmer's education." He motioned to her three escorts. "Gentlemen, if you please."

Rough hands started tearing at her clothing. Kelly started to scream and fight with every ounce of strength she had left.

Creed could smell her blood in the elevator. She'd been here and she'd been hurt. The raging animal in him came to the surface. He didn't even try to hold it back.

When the doors opened, there was no welcoming party waiting for them. To the right was a locked metal door, they went to the left. Creed and Conlon moved silently into a spartan galley where three men were playing poker. Before any of them could fumble for a weapon or raise an alarm, Creed snapped one's neck and tore another's throat out. Conlon cooked the other. When he was satisfied there were no others in the small barracks, he went back to the metal door and tried one of the keys from the ring he'd taken off the guard.

The scent of her blood was thick in the dim, gray passage. He walked by similar steel doors. All were closed except for one on the right. That one stood half open. His nose told him that the blood smeared over the steel floor of the cell was hers.

Screams cut through the quiet air. He ran to the door at the end of the passage. When none of the keys worked he hit it with his shoulder until he broke it out of the frame.

Kelly fought as best she could, but nothing stopped the grasping hands or taunting grins. Her clothing was ripped away piece by piece. Finally they turned her over onto her stomach. One held her shoulders, one started forcing her legs apart. That's when the pounding on the door started. For a moment, everything stopped.

Müller got up. "Keep going." The order was delivered sharply.

The door crashed inward before he could reach it. Kelly was sure she heard Victor's roar. That was impossible, but the rough hands had left her body. She shifted as far away as she could and curled up tightly, her hands protecting her head. She heard screaming and the sickening sound of bodies hitting the floor and bones breaking. Müller started to scream for help. She heard something that sounded like melon splitting against the ground and then there was silence.

She ventured a glance. Her vision was blurred with tears, pain and fear, but she could make out someone walking toward her. She had no strength left to fight. She started to whimper and squirm away.

"Frail?"

It sounded like Victor, but it had to be a trick, either one they were playing or one from her own mind. A clawed hand stroked the outside of her thigh. It was the first time she'd been gently touched in what seemed like ages. A soft purring growl vibrated the air around her. Kelly lowered her arms slowly. Her vision was blurred, but she could make out the familiar, hulking shape above her.

"Victor?" The word gurgled in her throat. She started to shiver.

"It's me, kitten." She heard his voice crack.

Kelly moved closer and groaned. Her muscles trembling. "Thought you were dead." She started to cough again.

"Didn't take." He unlocked her wrists first. Kelly knew he was being careful, but when he pulled the metal bars out of the wounds they'd created, she couldn't help but cry. "Told you nobody's figured out how to kill me yet." He put his coat over her and moved down to her ankles.

She was dying. Creed could fucking smell it starting to gather around her. Her hair was matted with blood, both of her eyes nearly swollen shut. What little he could see of her right eye was completely red from burst blood vessels. From the quality of the bruises on her torso he suspected she was bleeding internally too. The other cuts and bruises were too numerous to list, but some of them were infected already. He'd delivered fatal beatings that left less severe injuries.

Creed heard someone walking down the hall. He turned quickly.

"All the video is on live feed-" Conlon stopped in the doorway. "Jesus Christ."

"Get the fuck out. Get back to the truck and start it."

She looked up at him with unfocused eyes. "Where-"

"Taking you to a hospital, just hold on."

"Can't walk." She was barely conscious.

"Think I don't know that?" He fought to keep his tone normal. Upsetting her wasn't going to do a goddamn bit of good. He moved his arms under her and lifted as he stood.

She cried out in pain. The bullet that had torn through his head had hurt less. He moved as fast as he dared through the claustrophobic complex. When they emerged into the frigid night, he held the frail closer to his chest. She started to shiver anyway. He kept up a soothing growl and supported her head as best he could. When he got back to the rented SUV, Conlon was waiting. He got into the back, the frail cradled in his lap.

"Hospital."

Conlon drove out of the secluded turn-off and onto the main road. "Fifteen minutes." He said.

"Fifteen-?" The frail was mostly unconscious. She was trembling, her breathing was shallow and irregular. He scanned the countryside. "That ain't gonna cut it. Take the next right."

"But that's-"

"I know where it goes. Just take the fucking right." His voice was low, dangerous. He shifted carefully and pulled the phone off of his belt. He searched through the directory until he found the number he wanted. He dialed.

Each time it rang unanswered, Creed felt the pain his chest increase.

In the middle of the fourth ring, the phone was answered. "Charles Xavier."


	21. The M Word

_Hi Everyone!_

_At long last...here it is! I have to admit, I was completely overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter. Thank you so much for your wonderful compliments and all of your questions and curiosities. Some of them will be satisfied in this chapter! Frankly, it made me a little nervous. I worried I wasn't going to be able to do a good enough job on this chapter to live up to everyone's expectations. In a way, I worry I still haven't, but hopefully you'll be as forgiving as you always are. :)_

_A few notes: This chapter is told almost exclusively from Victor's perspective. His descriptions of others tend to be a bit crude. Secondly, epigenetics is a very real science. I admit to stretching the limits a bit, but many people are studying how physiological and social experience affect the expression of genes. If you'd like to learn more, message me and I'll tell you how. :)_

_On to the recap...In the last chapter, Victor recovered from his injury and rescued Kelly from Cavallo's secret prison. She was severely injured, and he called Charles Xavier for help._

_On we go! Thank you so much for your reviews, your alerts, and just bearing with me._

_Psyche b_

21. The "M" Word

The cultured voice on the other end of the line made Creed's stomach turn.

"Xavier." There was more of an edge to the voice now. This was a fucking stupid idea. He knew it. His thumb moved to end the call when the frail's hand gripped the front of his shirt. She wouldn't make it to a hospital and he couldn't let her go without a fight.

"This is..." He shifted his free hand to cover her exposed ear. "This is Sabertooth."

There was silence at the other end of the line. He didn't bother to wait for a response.

"Can you treat a human in those fancy ass medical facilities of yours?"

"Why?" The tone was guarded. Maybe curious, maybe not. Right at that moment he didn't give a shit.

"Because I'm about a minute and a half away from your front gate, but you already knew that. I got a frail that ain't gonna make it to a hospital. You gonna help her or you gonna let her-" He couldn't bring himself to say it. "Are you gonna help her or not?"

"Help her, or help you?"

The car stopped and Creed looked out through the windshield and saw the ornate iron gates still firmly closed. At the end of the long well-lit drive there was some kind of activity though. Probably marshaling the troops.

"You know me, right?" The frail made a pained little sound. He let out a soft, rumbling purr. "You know the shit I do to people."

"You've never tried to hide it."

"And I been doing it a long fucking time. I know how to get what I need before I break 'em and afterward I ain't inclined to fix 'em. Now am I?" Her fingers moved, gripping the fabric of his shirt and releasing it again. He stroked the back of her hand carefully. It was the only place he could see that wasn't bruised.

"There's a first time for everything."

"So I pick now to call ahead, to ask for help and to try and save a frail? Hell of a day I'm having. Better write it on your calendar."

"I'll send a medical team to collect her-"

"I go in with her."

"That's not possible."

"Bullshit. You been fucking around in my head since we rolled up on the gate and I been letting you. You know I don't give a shit about you or your little freak show, or anything else you got goin' on in there. 'Sides, it ain't like I never been invited to dinner before."

Silence on the line. At least the frail's breathing wasn't getting any worse. He tucked his coat around her. "There will be conditions."

"I got conditions too."

"You'll walk in with the girl. Your driver stays outside."

A narrow gate in the main one opened. Creed ended the call and got out carefully, making sure that the frail's head was cradled against his shoulder. Her hand gripped his shirt tighter again. "Almost there, frail." He worked to keep his tone reassuring, even though he could see the procession coming down the long driveway. The fucking runt was in the lead, his claws out and ready. Cyclops was a close second. The hairy blue doctor was next, though at the moment he looked more ready to fight than treat anyone. He wondered absently where the weather witch was. Bitch was always getting in his way, he didn't see why now should be any different.

"You got a lot of balls coming here." The runt growled.

"Always did, but you remember all that shit, don't you Jimmy. Shouldn't you be in a cage kicking some redneck's ass for a few bucks?"

"Better than beating little girls." There was a sneer on the runt's face. The stink of hatred and unease surrounded him in viscous waves. He ignored it.

Fucking prick was staring at his frail. Anger hit him like a punch to the gut and he held her tighter. The frail whimpered sharply. He looked down at her pained expression and forced himself to ease his grip He thought he saw confusion flickering over his brother's features. The scent of the others registered the same confused undertones as they fanned out around him, closing in.

Creed took a step forward, his fangs bared. A deadly growl vibrated the air around him. "You stupid son of a bitch. You think I'd bring her here if-"

"You've never done shit for anybody but yourself in your whole miserable life. Put her down and step back."

Creed could see the tension coiled in his brother's muscles. "What's the matter, Jimmy? So anxious to cut me that you're afraid of shredding her too?"

"Goddamn it Victor-"

"You wanna try and kill me, you'll have your chance. But I ain't puttin' her on the ground." He resisted the urge to hold her tighter. She moaned softly. The blue ape gestured and two assistants appeared with a stretcher. He didn't recognize either of them, but they stopped a few feet away. He walked forward slowly, his eyes darting from the runt to the others that surrounded him. He set the frail down carefully. She whimpered. Her eyelids started to flutter. Her head moved from side to side. His eyes were fixed on her face. If it wasn't for her scent, he probably wouldn't have recognized her. He moved some of the bloody hair from her forehead.

The ape moved closer and the frail got more agitated the closer he got. She opened her eyes slowly and scanned Creed's face, the stars, the trees and finally the blue furry face that was leaning in to her.

A long moment passed before she started to scream and cough. He eyes opened as wide as the swelling allowed. "Victor, no! Please! Don't let them take me!" She entangled her fingers in his shirt and held on like it was the last thing she would ever do.

The two assistants – one female, one male – moved in and started pulling at her hands. He guessed whatever shit they were spouting was meant to be soothing, but it only upset her more.

He looked up at them. The murderous glare stopped them in their tracks. His voice came out in a deadly growl. "Back the fuck off!"

He looked down at the frail, his face close to hers, one hand supporting the back of her neck. "Listen to me frail, you're safe. I ain't gonna leave you." He glanced at the ape and then back at the terrified girl. "These are a bunch of self-righteous assholes, but they won't hurt you. You know I wouldn't bring you here otherwise."

She gave a terrified whimper, but her grip on his shirt started to relax. He brushed at her tears, then insinuated his thumb into her hand, breaking her weakened grip. He eased her head down and tucked her hand back inside his coat. He felt her starting to relax. He tucked the coat around her. Her body started to convulse.

"She's seizing!" The ape shouted. "Get her inside, get her vitals and make sure her airway is clear." He turned to Creed. "Do you know her name?" His voice was cold.

He growled. "Course I know her fucking name. It's Kelly Demmer."

The ape started walking away and he started to follow, but Jimmy stepped in front of him.

"Where the fuck do you think you're goin'?" The smaller feral growled.

"Get outta my way, Jimmy, or I swear I'll gut you." His claws lengthened, his muscles tensed, looking for blood in hopes of easing the pain that tore at him. He knew it wouldn't work, but it might be a distraction.

The runt's nose twitched. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't advance.

"Lose your nerve?" Creed managed a sneer.

The two men started to circle each other.

"That's male blood."

It took Creed a minute to realize what Jimmy was talking about. Blood slicked the front of his shirt and pants. A good portion of it was splattered over his coat too, but that had gone with the frail. "So? I had to rip through seven guys to get to her. In case you don't remember, that tends to leave a mess. Make your point, take your shot or get the fuck out of my way."

The runt advanced. "You stupid son of bitch-"

"Logan." Xaviar's voice was as calm as ever.

The smaller feral growled in frustration, but stayed where he was. His eyes still locked on Creed's. "You're not serious about letting him in here, are you?"

"With conditions." His eyes were on Creed's face.

"I stay with her all the time, day, night, whatever. You stay the fuck out of her head unless she gives you permission. Anybody shows up looking for her, you never heard of her. As soon as she's able we both leave and go to a real hospital. You got anything to add?" Creed's fingers flexed, his eyes were fixed on the door the frail was taken into.

"Not good enough." The runt's blades were still out, itching for a fight.

"Logan-"

"NO! You don't know what he wants with that girl! You can't just hand her over and give him the run of the place too."

Creed didn't hear most of the argument that followed. Jimmy started listing all the shit Creed had done to Xavier's X-Men. The old bastard started rambling about some kind of break and most of the little freaks being gone. The others were mostly on Jimmy's side, but Creed knew they'd follow wherever the old man sent them. Most of the time he figured it was fucking stupid. This time it was to his advantage, so he went with it.

It was all going by too fast. One minute she was outside, the next she was inside in a cold, sterile room. People were talking to her. One, the blue doctor, was obviously a mutant. Even through all the pain and confusion she knew that much. She couldn't tell about the others, except they seemed intent on telling her she was 'safe'.

"Kelly, I'm Dr. Henry McCoy."

"Victor." The word came out in a slurred murmur.

"You're safe from him." One of the assistants said.

"He saved me. Twice." The effort of speaking drained what little energy she had, but she had to be sure they knew before it was impossible for her to tell them.

"Saved you?" McCoy asked.

They were hooking her up to monitors. Alarms started to sound and someone put an oxygen mask on her face. She pushed it aside. "Get him, please."

McCoy put the mask back in place. "You need that. I'll let him see you when you're stable."

She moved the mask again. "Now." She started to cough into the mask. She moved it again. "I can't die alone."

He took her hand. "I'm not going to let you die."

Even in her weakened state, Kelly could read the sincerity in his eyes.

Creed had been stuck in some fucking conference room for the past four hours and thirty-seven minutes. It was all slick surfaces and comfortable chairs and he knew exactly how long he'd been there because he'd been staring at the clock the whole goddamn time. With every minute that ticked by, he was getting more and more certain that she wasn't going to make it. He didn't know how she'd even stayed conscious for as long as she did to start with. Every time he thought about walking out of there without her, it felt like someone was tightening a band around his chest, restricting air and blood and ratcheting up the guilty pain that had settled there.

Jimmy had been sitting there with him the whole time, though he was being an obedient boy and not starting any shit. After the waiting had gone on for five hours, he could feel the runt's eyes on him, staring.

He didn't turn his head. "What?"

"That a fashion statement?"

He looked at Jimmy suspiciously. "The fuck are you talking about?"

Jimmy pointed at the side of his head. "You get interrupted while you were shaving?"

Creed's hand went to the smooth, new flesh on the side of his head. "'Scuse me. I didn't realize there'd be a photo shoot later."

The runt growled. "I'm trying to ask you what happened you fucking asshole."

"You care all of a sudden? I'm touched."

Smoldering anger ratcheted up again. "I don't give a shit, but Chuck let you in here. Gotta be a reason."

Creed studied his younger brother for a minute. "Since you got your memory back, you remember Verdun?"

He gave a derisive little snort. "Wish I didn't."

The corner of Creed's mouth twitched into a little smile. "Ain't my favorite thing to think about either. Anyway, sniper got you-"

"Went in through my left eye," Jimmy said, his eyes were far away. "I don't remember anything for the week after that."

Creed nodded. "And when you finally did wake up the whole back of your head was bald. The flesh and bone and brain and all that shit regenerated, that dumbass hair-do of yours had to grow back on its own."

"She shoot you?"

Creed looked at Jimmy sharply, but he saw the little smirk on his brother's face, he relaxed his grip on the arms of the chair. "She's scrappy, but she's got shitty aim." He looked away. "She's a protection job. The people after her shot me to get to her."

"Protection." Jimmy's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah. Some of us gotta earn a living."

"You don't do protection."

"And you would know because of all the quality time we've spent together in the last few decades." Creed looked away.

"Fair enough. From what I know, you've done protection twice. The first time was a short job and you were just itching to get your claws into something afterward. The second one pissed you off and you killed him yourself."

Creed growled. "Fat bastard talked non-stop."

"Never met a quiet girl."

He studied Jimmy's face. Creed could tell that his brother didn't believe a word of it, and he didn't give a shit. It was none of Jimmy's business. "You never met her."

It looked like the smaller mutant was about say something, but the door opened. Both turned to see the blue doctor coming into the room. This time he was wearing scrubs and those half moon glasses that always gave the impression he was looking down at the person he was talking to.

Creed got to his feet. "Well?"

"Well, she came through the surgery."

"What surgery?" He was pissed off and worried and if someone had asked he wouldn't have been able to tell which one was stronger.

The ape took his glasses off. The blue bastard felt sorry for him, he could see it in his eyes. "Sit down. Please."

He balled his fists. The pain of his claws digging into his palms would keep him focused. "Fuck that. Just tell me."

"The beating she sustained ruptured her spleen. Her ribs were so severely broken a shard of the bone punctured her lung. I removed the spleen and repaired the lung. There weren't any other internal injuries, but she's severely weakened. There were several times I wasn't certain she was going to make it through the surgery."

"She's a fighter." Creed had to hear it. He had to remind himself.

He tried to forced a smile. "That she is. She has a closed head injury. Right now I'm managing the brain swelling with drugs and a medically induced coma. Hopefully, that will give her body time to rest and begin to recover too."

Creed nodded. "I'll make arrangements to get her transferred out of here." He took his phone off his belt.

"You can't." The ape spoke quickly.

Creed's eyes narrowed. A growl rose in his chest. "Why the fuck not? I don't wanna be here any more than you want me here. I sure as hell don't want her here-"

"You can't because she won't survive the transfer." The doctor said quickly.

The words hit him harder than the bullet had. "What?"

"Her condition is extremely critical. Once she's strong enough, I'll help you arrange a transfer. Until then, she'll have round the clock care here."

"I'm not leaving."

"No one's asking you to. I'll take you to her." He started out the door. Creed stayed put. It had to be a trick, it was too easy.

"What the fuck are you trying to pull?"

"What do you mean?"

"You come in here talking to me like I'm a human being. You don't start interrogating me about what I did to put her in that condition to start with, or who she is to me."

The ape walked up to him, his thick muscles bunched with tension. "You listen to me and you listen good. I despise you. The things you've done to innocent people make me sick just thinking about them. If she'd been unconscious the entire time I was with her I wouldn't let you within a hundred feet of her, no matter what Charles said." He took a step back. "As it is, she was partially conscious until the surgery. All she did was ask for you. She said you saved her twice. Most of what she said was incoherent, but in her mental and physical state she didn't have the capacity to cover for you."

The image of the frail trying to cover for him twitched one corner of his mouth into a fleeting smile. "She's a shitty liar anyway."

"I don't pretend to understand. If having you close helps her to recover then I'm willing to give it the chance. You won't be alone with her, and there will be someone in to check on her every fifteen minutes. Any other questions?"

"Not at the moment."

"Follow me."

Creed followed the doctor down a long hallway. They were already in the bowels of the mansion, but to Creed it felt like they were going further underground. The area they moved through looked less like a medical facility and more like a prison. Finally, they stopped in front of one small, gray room. He could hear the soft beeping of monitors coming from the open door. Inside, the frail lay on a hospital bed. There was a tube in her throat. IV lines tethered her left arm. A narrow tube snaked its way into her left nostril, presumably to deliver liquid nutrition. A nearly empty catheter collection bag was clipped to the underside of the bed close to her hip. Even under the sharp scent of medicine and disinfectant, he still knew it was his frail. She looked even smaller and more fragile than she usually did.

He took a step closer. The large wound on her head had been stitched and someone had taken time to wash the blood away from her face and her hair. The deep purple bruises stood out even more on her ivory skin.

Anger threatened to blind him, but he forced himself to hold it at bay. He could go tearing out of there intent on finding and gutting Cavallo and Stan, but that would mean she was left alone with Xavier and his X freaks. He'd never get her back and he was going to be damned if he would live without her. Creed looked around the cell-like room.

The ape was walking out. Creed grasped his arm tightly. "You ain't leavin' her here to die."

"She doesn't deserve that." He looked down at Creed's hand. Creed let go.

Creed sat down in one of the orange plastic chairs in the room and got familiar with the sounds the monitors made.

For two days, Creed sat in that chair and watched. The frail's chest rose and fell. The monitors traced out each heartbeat, and recorded each blood pressure reading. IV fluids dripped into her veins and the bag that collected her urine slowly filled as her body excreted them again. Every so often tears would trickle down the sides of her face. The first time, he asked if she was in pain, but nobody would give him a straight answer. Her scent was a stagnant mix of blood, injury, medicine and diffuse fear. Any two of those things would have effectively masked the scent of pain. After that first time, he just wiped her tears away.

His meals appeared at regular intervals. When Jimmy brought them, he brought a couple of beers along too. The meat was always overcooked and the seasoning was all wrong. He picked at it, and went back to staring at the frail.

Every fifteen minutes, someone came in to check on her. Every two hours, they shifted her position. Nobody said a goddamn word to him but the sure as hell managed to give him dirty looks every time they showed up.

Snippets of conversations drifted in to him from time to time. "He must have done it to her, no matter what she said." "He just sits there, staring. Creeps me out every time I go in there." "She's here now, he doesn't need to stay." Creed rolled all his anger at them into planning what he was going to do the Stan, Cavallo, and anyone else who got in his way.

He'd called Conlon and sent him on to a motel to wait. He didn't bother with an explanation. Conlon had seen the state the frail was in. He didn't need to know any more than that. He knew he should call Joe, but he didn't know what to say.

Sometimes, the one-eyed asshole sat with him. Staring at him from behind those fucking sunglasses. Creed kept his eyes on the frail. Those times, under that clearly disgusted glare, thoughts of revenge did nothing for him. Instead he retreated into his memories of the way she smiled at him. The sweet vanilla sugar smell of her when she relaxed. The way her fingers moved through the hair on his chest when she was coming down from an orgasm. An orgasm he had given her. How soft her skin was. The way she fit against him when they slept. The longer he stared at her still form, the more sure he became that she'd never look at him like that again.

Jimmy's ass occupied the other orange chair most of the time. Ususally, he was nothing more than a silent, staring presence. Finally, Creed couldn't take the silence any longer. He turned to the smaller feral and stared back. "You got something to say?"

"You stink."

"Well thank you very much for your input. Asshole." Creed turned his eyes back to the frail.

"You asked. When was the last time you took a shower?"

"Don't know. Probably the evening before all this shit happened." The blood on his clothes had turned from smelling old to smelling rotten.

The runt got up. "C'mon."

Creed glared. "I'm not leaving her."

"Next time they come in, McCoy'll be here to change the dressing and check her incision. That'll take some time. Instead of standing in the hall staring at me you can get cleaned up. Might consider getting some rest too."

"I've been napping." Creed looked away and gave a little shrug. "Might shower though."

Jimmy nodded.

When the ape and one of the nurses came in, the runt led him a little to a room a few doors down. This room was a cell. A narrow cot was against one wall. A toilet, sink and shower were at the end of the small room.

Creed looked around the tiny, dank space and growled. "You gonna lock me in too?"

"Nope, but I'll wait." Jimmy lounged back on the cot, one foot on the floor, the knee raised in front of him.

Creed rolled his eyes and started to strip out of his bloody clothes. "Need to be reminded what a real man looks like, Runt?"

"I sure as hell ain't gonna leave you alone. Towels and soap are in there." He nodded toward the end of the bed. "Sweats should fit. They're clean at least."

Creed turned on the water. "You gonna tell me to wash behind my balls too?"

"That what she does for you?"

Creed dug his claws into the palms of his hands, feeling the flesh separate and then knit together again. He ducked under the low shower bar. The spray hit him in the chest. He closed the curtain. He pissed with more pressure than the shower had, but at least the water was hot. He turned to face Jimmy. "Told you, Runt, she's a job and that's all I'm gonna say. So, why aren't you trying to kill me?"

Jimmy shrugged. "You got me curious. I could ask you the same question."

Creed shook his head. He worked soap into his uneven hair. "This might come as a shock to you Jimmy, but there are whole weeks that go by when I don't think of you or Stryker or any of that shit." He ducked under the water and let it carry away the suds and sweat and tension.

"Especially recently."

Creed shrugged. "You said that, I didn't. One thing I am gonna say though, all the shit that's between us doesn't involve anybody else. You get bored or you get your curiosity satisfied you leave her out of it."

Jimmy growled. "I'm not the same kind of asshole you are."

Creed rolled his eyes. "I forgot. You're a special kind of asshole." He turned off the water and started drying off with the rough towel. He stepped out with it wrapped around his waist. He pulled on the gray sweat pants without looking at them. The shirt had the Xavier's School logo and name emblazoned across the chest. "Oh fuck no."

Jimmy shrugged. "Wear it or don't, I don't care."

Creed pulled the shirt over his head and walked back to the frail's room.

Another day of short naps, bad food and silence ticked by. If he hadn't grown so damn accustomed to the sounds the monitors made he wouldn't have noticed any change at all. Her heart rate was not as steady as it had been. The tracings on the screen were more erratic too. He watched those glowing lines. He watched the frail's chest rise and fall. Every minute that passed made him more certain that he was losing her. Every breath he took made his chest hurt more.

All of it pissed him off, and there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about any of it. He should have left her in the woods. Should have fucked her and tore her apart right there in the snow. He would never have given her a second thought. She would have just been another victim.

Maybe he'd just leave. Go find Cavallo and Stan, make them both suffer and then keep right on going. She didn't need him. She sure as hell wouldn't want him after he fucked up so bad. She deserved better. Deserved _normal_.

A little whimper from the bed drew his attention. At first he thought it was his imagination, but then she reached toward the tube in her throat. He got up quickly and stopped her hand. She held on to him awkwardly.

He looked at Jimmy. "Get someone. Now!"

Her eyes were open. He could tell she was still drugged, but she was fighting it. He put the side rail on the bed down. Terror suffused the bloody scent around her. "It's alright frail."

She whimpered and reached for the tube again. He stopped her.

"You need that for now." He looked at her eyes more closely. Her pupils were unevenly dilated. "Told you I'd bring you someplace where they'd help you." He shifted his hand in hers. She held on tightly.

The ape rushed in. She shifted closer to Creed.

"When did she wake up?"

"Minute or two ago." Creed kept his eyes on hers. She was calming and he could see that she was shaking the effects of the drug.

The ape looked in her eyes and then checked the IV pump. He made some kind of adjustment and her consciousness started to fade, but he could see her fighting it. "Get some sleep frail. You get cranky when you don't sleep and that pisses me off." His voice was soft.

The fight went out of her and she went back under again. Creed set her hands down carefully, then glared at the ape.

The blue doctor opened his mouth, but Creed shook his head sharply.

"Not in here." Creed adjusted the side rail again. He walked out into the hall and waited for the others to follow. He kept his eyes on the frail. "What the fuck was that?"

"I don't know. From what I can see, all the equipment is functioning as it should. I've never seen anyone build up a tolerance for that drug so quickly." The ape seemed genuinely shaken.

Creed looked at the still form in the bed and then back at the doctor. "She is human, isn't she?"

"I ran a basic DNA screen to make sure she was as part of her pre-surgery bloodwork. Why?"

Creed looked from Jimmy to the ape and back again. "No reason." He started back into the frail's room. Jimmy stopped him.

"Bullshit. You wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't have a reason."

He growled. "Get the fuck out of my way, Jimmy."

"She's severely weakened. If I have to keep raising the dose to keep her under, that could further compromise her condition." The ape said.

Creed looked at him. He knew the statement was true. He stared at the frail, trying to decide how much he was willing to risk sharing. "She took Hypnocyn once. Took her twice as long to fall asleep and she was awake a few hours before I figured she should be." Creed heard a pen scratching.

"What was the dose?" The doctor asked.

"Don't know."

"Was it a tablet or a capsule?"

"Light blue tablet."

"Is that all?"

"For drugs, yeah."

"What else?"

He turned. The ape's eyes were focused on the notes he was making. "She said she hasn't scarred since she was a kid. Had her appendix out or some shit like that, but nothing after."

"I'm going to run a more sophisticated genetic profile. I'll let you know what I come up with."

Creed nodded and walked back into the frail's room. Jimmy sat down in his usual spot and stared. "I saw how you touched her. She's not a job."

He glanced over at Jimmy. "Not every job's the same."

The next day, Jimmy showed up with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. The ape walked in a few minutes later.

"C'mon," Jimmy said.

"No. I don't wanna leave her alone."

"I'll be with her." McCoy said. "I'll need an hour or so to do some tests. If you aren't back, I'll make sure that someone sits with her." Either the scents of medicine and antiseptic were dulling his senses, or some of the anger was leeching out of the ape's scent.

Creed nodded and got up. He didn't necessarily care to spend time with Jimmy. He was pretty sure he knew what his brother was going to ask. He went for the whiskey and the promise of fresh air.

"So, your boss isn't afraid I'm gonna piss on the carpets or blow the place up?"

Jimmy glared at him. "You ever stop being a pain in the ass?"

"Not usually."

They moved upward through the mansion. Jimmy stopped in a rear hallway and pulled on a jacket. Creed headed out the door onto a snowy stone patio. As soon as he was outside, he took a deep breath, clearing the stink of illness from his nose. Jimmy stood next to him and handed him a glass full of dark amber liquid. Creed drained half of it. It felt like swallowing fire.

"Goddamn, what is that, lighter fluid?"

Jimmy glared. "You've had worse."

"I know that, but it ain't usually my choice. You picked this shit out."

"Kickin' redneck ass don't pay like it used to. If you don't want it, give it back."

"Fuck that." He drained the rest of the glass and focused on the burn.

"Thought so." He offered the bottle and Creed filled his glass again.

"I know you wanna ask, and you know I ain't gonna tell you so you might as well not bother."

"I've never seen a woman reach out to you and I've sure as hell never seen you reach back without your claws. I could see you sitting there if she was a job, but not touching her like that." Jimmy was looking out across the wide lawn.

For some reason, hearing that description of such an intimate and private moment pissed Creed off. He turned toward Jimmy and threw the glass on the ground. The growl that erupted from his chest was laced with danger. "What the fuck do you want from me?" He advanced on the smaller feral, his claws extended. He heard the runt pop his claws too. "You want ammo? You want something to tell the old man so that the next time we're on the opposite sides of something he has a good fucking threat? Maybe you think you can get some of your own back. Maybe you think you can take my mate from me like you think I took yours from you."

Jimmy lunged and Creed countered, knocking the other mutant onto his back. Jimmy slashed the back of Creed's calf, cutting down to the bone. He roared and planted his boot in the soft part of Jimmy's side. If it hadn't been from for the adamantium, Jimmy's ribs would have been crushed. The runt rolled away and got to his feet.

"You did take something from me!" The smaller feral roared.

"If you think that was my decision you're dumber than you look."

"You didn't stop it."

"Yeah, cause I was right in the loop during the planning process."

Jimmy's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean Kayla was already with you by the time I heard about her. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Call you up? 'Hey Jimmy, I know you hate my fucking guts but guess what? That girl you've been living with and making plans with is working for Stryker. Just thought you'd like to know.' You'd've ignored it on principle and don't tell me you wouldn't."

Jimmy stared at him for a long moment, then retracted his claws. "Suppose that's all you think you did."

Creed shrugged. "Kept your skinny ass alive. If you're pissed about that, that's your problem. Where the fuck is that bottle?" He found it laying in a small heap of snow. He took the cap off and took several long swallows.

"Gimme some of that." Jimmy took it from him.

Creed looked at the back of his leg. It was mostly healed already. Probably draw some looks when they got back inside.

"Mate?" Jimmy cocked one eyebrow. Creed fucking hated it when the runt did that.

"Maybe you're too fucking domesticated to remember what it means, but I'm sure as hell not." Creed used his claws to slice through the torn and blood-soaked fabric around his calf. For a few minutes, there was silence.

"You love her?" Jimmy asked.

"What? No!" Creed walked to the other end of the patio. "I don't know. What the fuck has that got to do with anything?"

Jimmy suppressed a little laugh. "Whatever you say." He took a long swallow and handed the bottle back to Creed. "Who's after her?"

Creed looked at the smaller feral through narrowed eyes. "Why're you askin'?"

"Well shit, I don't know. You show up here out of the blue asking for help for a human girl that you didn't hurt in the first place. You tell me you had half your head blown off trying to keep her away from somebody. All of that makes me just a little curious."

Creed took a generous swallow and handed the bottle back. "This you who wants to know, or your boss?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Chuck has his own sources. He probably had his own version of the story the morning after you got here."

Creed took a deep breath and started the story from the beginning. Jimmy stood there and listened. Even after Creed finished, Jimmy stood there silent for awhile.

"You're going after them, aren't you." Jimmy asked.

"Wouldn't you? C'mon, they're probably done with her by now." He headed back inside and tossed the bloody fabric into a small wastebasket by the door.

Jimmy followed him and the two ferals walked through the wood-panaled main entrance hall. Creed found himself wondering if the frail would like it. Her tastes tended to run toward the simple, though. The blue doctor was wearing a bright white lab coat when he approached them there.

"She's been moved back into the main medical unit," he said.

Something in the way the ape said it made Creed suspicious. "Why?"

"We need to talk about that." Creed could smell the tension around the doctor.

The three walked in silence back to the same conference room they'd taken him into when they arrived. Jimmy sat down in a corner.

"I told you Kelly has some brain swelling."

"Yeah." Creed knew it was going to be bad. He fought the urge to sit.

"She's too weak for surgery, so I've been trying to manage it with medication. Nothing I've tried thus far is working. The swelling is starting to compromise her vital functions."

"How long." Creed's voice was flat.

"It's difficult to tell. I've switched her to a different drug at a higher dosage, it's possible that it'll help. She's already fought harder than I would have thought in the beginning."

The corner of Creed's mouth twitched in a proud little smile. "She don't look like much, but she's scrappier than a one-eyed alley cat."

The ape smiled a little. "That she is. I finished the more detailed genetic profile as well."

"And?"

"She has dormant mutant genes."

Creed gave a derisive snort. "Like a quarter of the human population."

"True, but one cluster of those genes isn't quite so dormant." He turned on a lighted panel. The images that resembled clouds of stars were laid out.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Creed sat down.

"Genes, both human and mutant, are only potentials. Experience is needed to activate or deactivate them. Logan, your healing factor became active when you were in your early adolescence, correct?"

"Yeah, so?"

Creed could smell confusion and incredulity.

The doctor looked at Victor. "And yours?"

"I don't know, six or seven. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Is it safe to say that your early life was significantly different than Logan's?"

Creed could feel the rage surging through every cell in his body. His muscles tensed. "That's none of your fucking business!"

"I'm not asking to pry."

Creed growled. "Then what difference does it make?"

"Only that if you endured more physical difficulties the gene cluster that controls your healing factor would have been bombarded with need signals. It would have become active sooner to keep you alive. I think that's what happened to the gene cluster Kelly has. I can see that she's suffered prolonged malnutrition, though it's abated fairly recently. What else can you tell me about her background?"

"She's been through hell." It was as much as Creed was willing to say. When she woke up, if she wanted to, the frail could tell him herself.

The ape nodded and pointed to the three images. "These are graphical representations of the gene cluster responsible for mutant healing factor. The bright spots are methyl molecules. They either attach to gene signaling it to turn on directly, or they act on the histones that wrap the molecule so that certain parts of the sequence become available or hidden depending upon the action. The image on the left is an ordinary human with a dormant mutant healing factor." It was mostly dark with a couple of bright spots scattered haphazardly across the field. "On the right is Logan's. You can see the difference." Jimmy's looked like a nebulous image of a bright galaxy.

"And the frail?"

"She falls right in between the two." He pointed to the third image. "She heals at a normal rate, but I think the partial activity of those genes prevents her skin from scarring. I think it's also why she's so resistant to medications as well."

Creed stared at the images. "Well that's just terrific. I'm sure you'll win first prize at the science fair. What good is it going to do her?"

The ape took a deep breath. "I might have a way to fully activate the genes."

"Might?"

"It's experimental."

Creed shook his head. A growl erupted from his chest. "Hasn't she been through enough? Now you want to turn her into some kind of fucking lab rat?"

"Epigenetic therapies are in use for certain cancers-"

"She hasn't got cancer!"

"I've done everything I can do for her. Her body is either resisting it or she's simply too weak to bounce back. I can't promise this treatment will work, but it's the only thing I can offer."

Creed started to pace. "What if it does work? Will she be a mutant?"

"I'll target the treatment to her healing factor genes, but I can't make any guarantees."

It was too much to think about and just trying to sort through it hurt. "This gonna hurt her more? Because she's been through enough shit already."

"She won't feel anything. I'll prepare an IV solution and she'll receive it with the rest."

"How many times have you done this?" He was avoiding it. Why were they asking him anyway? Didn't McCoy of all people know that he fucked everything up?

From the look on his face, Creed knew it wasn't a question the ape wanted to answer. "Five people have received similar treatments."

"And how many did it work for?"

"One saw limited methylation. Their circumstances were far different from Kelly's though."

Creed's eyes narrowed. "Different how?"

"All of those patients had completely dormant genes. For Kelly, it's still a longshot but it has a chance of succeeding enough to bring her out of this."

Creed thought back to the first time they'd seen Stan on television. She'd been terrified and then the next night she'd wanted to go out alone just to prove he hadn't won. She'd probably view dying as a win for Stan and Cavallo. She'd fucking hate that. He nodded. "Do it."

The move to a new location at least provided a more comfortable chair. Almost as soon as he sat down with her, Creed found that he was everyone's favorite attraction. The large window that separated the frail's room from the rest of the space made Creed feel like they were sitting in a fishbowl. If there had been blinds, he would have closed them.

The weather witch was the first to show up. She just stood there, fucking staring. He stared back. She turned and left. Clearly the kids were back because the older, braver ones seemed to show up a couple at a time. They were always quickly chased out, but not before they'd had their look. The old man himself even rolled through a few times. After that, Creed felt like charging admission. "See Kelly Demmer, half mutant, half human!" Didn't take him long to realize the frail wasn't the biggest reason they showed up.

It was him.

They wanted to see the monster they'd heard stories about. The heartless bastard they'd grown to hate over years of conflict and battles. The fucking animal that had been invited into the clean, safe heart of the their little slice of Westchester paradise. It pissed him off. He added it to the list and kept his eyes on the monitors. Each increasingly erratic and ineffectual heartbeat was traced out in vibrant orange. Blood pressure dropped more slowly, but even he could see that there was a steady decline.

He didn't need the monitors or the looks the caretakers gave him. He could smell her dying in slow inches. Every hour that ticked by he waited for some sign of improvement. A more rhythmic heartbeat. A deeper breath. Anything. Nothing came.

Nothing came for four days. The look on the ape's face told him that it never would.

"I don't think-"

He stared at the pale body in the bed. "Shut up. You don't have to tell me. I can smell it."

"If you want to go-"

"I said shut the fuck up." He got up and stood next to her. Most of the swelling had gone from her face, but the bruising was still there. He stared at the tubes and wires and hated them even more now than he had before. "Unhook all this shit."

"If I do that-"

The deep growl was out before he could stop it. "If you do it _what_? She'll die in ten minutes instead of thirty? You won't know the exact moment it happens? Unhook it all and leave me alone with her."

The ape nodded. It took five minutes to free her from all the tubes and wires. After that, Jimmy and the ape both left. The door was shut and a screen was moved in front of the outside of the window. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he wrapped the thin blanket around her and lifted the frail of the bed. He sat down in the chair he'd spent the last four days in, her head resting against his shoulder. He forced a deep purr to rumble through his chest because he knew she liked it.

"I fucked it up, frail. We shoulda stayed in Chicago. Or Maine. Or anyplace I didn't have to trust some stranger with your safety. Even then, if I'd been paying attention it wouldn't have happened." He had no idea if the last part was true, but it felt true to him. Her breathing was getting shallower. He shifted his hand so that one finger rested against the pulse in her neck. It was weak and irregular. Each thready little flutter cut him deeper than Jimmy's blades had. None of his second-guessing would matter now. He'd have centuries alone to tear himself apart.

He rested his cheek against her forehead and felt the warmth draining from her skin. Her shallow breathing slowed until it stopped all together. Her pulse fluttered twice more under his finger, then that stopped too.

He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall. For a moment, he was numb. Then the pain of loss tore through his veins like a white-hot fire. It was worse than anything physical he'd ever suffered. It was even worse than the loss of Jimmy. He dug his claws into the upholstered arm of the chair, barely containing the roar that rose in his throat.

Creed sat there for what seemed like hours, the weight of the frail in his lap, the pain of her loss ripping through him. When he trusted himself, he looked back down at her. The only way he could assure himself that she was dead was to look at her. He tilted her chin up and thought he noticed a lessening in the bruising around her eyes.

Imagination. Had to be.

Her chest rose and fell weakly.

The misfiring of a brain that doesn't realize it's dead, he told himself. Seen it a million times.

Then it happened again, only it was deeper and more sustained this time. He studied the bruises on her face again. Most of the ones that were still purple were taking on a greenish-yellow tinge.

Another, stronger breath. This one looked almost normal.

It was stupid. Probably a hallucination. But what if it wasn't? He touched the side of her neck and found her skin warmer, a pulse fluttered under his fingers. It was weak, but regular. With each little throb it seemed to grow stronger.

As he sat there transfixed it grew into a normal rhythm. So did her breathing. The scent of death receded and he thought he caught the scent of sweet vanilla. This was not a trick of his mind. He could imagine death and torment with a clarity that shocked most people, but to imagine life was beyond his capacity.

The bruises that had been nearly healed were gone. The ones that were still dark and angry were fading. The wound on her head was beginning to knit together.

He shook her shoulders carefully. "Frail?"

Her eyes fluttered, but didn't open.

"Frail?" He spoke louder and shook her shoulders again.

This time she opened her sea-glass eyes and focused on his face. "Victor?" Her voice was raspy. She reached up to stroke his cheek. He covered her hand with his. "I thought I only dreamed that you came for me."

"Wasn't a dream frail." He held her tight. She snuggled against his chest, fitting as she always had. One hand covered her ear. He turned toward the door. "McCoy! Jimmy!"


	22. Scars

**Hi Everyone!**

**I know this has taken forever. I hate the fact that real life intervenes so much sometimes. Also I realized this chapter was getting insanely long (even for me) so I decided to split it into two. Hopefully the next update won't take quite as long to come out.**

**As always, you guys are the best ever! All the reviews, alerts and just knowing people are reading and enjoying makes my day in ways I can't even begin to describe.**

**Enjoy!**

**Psyche b**

22. Scars...

Kelly looked up at Victor, afraid that if she took her eyes off of him that he would disappear and she would be back in the darkness that had held her captive for so long. His mutton chops were connected by a rough growth of stubble. She should see the exhaustion etched around his eyes.

"You look like you haven't slept in days." Her own voice sounded strange to her. The gravelly feeling in her throat took a moment to hit her.

He grinned down at her. "Thanks. Wanna tell me how bad I smell now?"

"Maybe in a few minutes." She smiled and immediately winced.

Concern flashed across his face. "You in pain?"

She nodded slowly. "Everything hurts."

The door opened quickly and Kelly jumped, cowering against Victor's chest. He held her tighter. She vaguely recognized the blue doctor that rushed in as the one who had promised not to let her die, but the other man was a stranger to her. She recognized a look of shock when she saw it though.

"Miss Demmer?" The doctor said.

Kelly nodded. "Sorry, I don't remember your name."

He smiled and squatted down in front of her. "Quite understandable. Dr. Henry McCoy." He turned on a small light and raised it to her eyes. Kelly pushed it away.

"Can't I at least have a glass of water first? I feel like I've been swallowing sand."

McCoy kept his eyes on her. "Logan, water please."

The other man disappeared into a small bathroom and emerged with a paper cup of water. The longer she looked at him, the more Kelly was reminded of Victor. He was staring as he held the water out to her. Kelly held those intensely curious eyes, but didn't reach out to take the water. Victor held her a little tighter and took the cup. Kelly relaxed against him.

"This is my brother, Jimmy." He held the cup to her lips. "Usually he ain't mute."

He tilted the cup slowly. Cool water drained into her mouth and down her throat in a heavenly river. She doubted anything had ever felt so good. A tremor of pleasure coursed through her. For a minute, what he said didn't register. When it did, the water was still far more important to her.

"Brother?" she asked when he took the cup away from her lips.

"Didn't tell her about me?" Jimmy or Logan or whoever he was didn't take his eyes off of her.

Victor gave a little shrug and a cold smile. "You ain't been on my mind lately, Runt."

"Could you two continue this discussion somewhere else, please?" McCoy sounded annoyed.

"Jimmy can. I'm not goin' anyplace." Victor's arms tightened around her. It was the protective side of him coming through. Kelly wanted nothing more than to sink into those arms and hide there for the next few months. She knew there would be time for that later.

"I'd prefer to have a few minutes alone with Miss Demmer." McCoy's eyes were fixed on Victor.

"Why?" Victor's anger was rising now.

"Because she's my patient and she's just made a nearly miraculous recovery. I need to examine her."

Kelly stroked her forehead against his cheek. "Victor, I'll be okay."

He returned the gesture, only with more vigor. She moved with him. "You sure frail?"

She managed a little smile. "If you'll come back."

He grinned. "Take more than all of these assholes put together to keep me away." He held her close and got up, depositing her carefully on the bed. Kelly arranged the blanket around herself so that she could move.

Victor turned to McCoy. "It's late. You got half an hour, no more." He turned to her. "I'm gonna find a shower, frail." Kelly nodded and watched him and his brother leave the room. Victor gave her one last look before he closed the door.

She looked at McCoy. "What time is it?"

"A little after ten. Do you know how long you've been here?" He turned the light on and moved it in front of her eyes again. This time, she didn't stop him.

"I don't know. It must be a long time because I don't hurt nearly as much as I did when I got here." He grasped her wrist and found her pulse. While she waited, Kelly started to rotate her ankles and stretch her toes. The ache was deep in her bones, but at least she could move. He released her wrist and made some notes.

"You've been with us for eight days." He held his stethoscope over her heart and listened for a few minutes. "Can you sit forward a bit?"

Kelly moved forward and he put a cold stethoscope on her back. "That's all? I would have thought it was longer than that."

"Why?" He moved the instrument slowly.

She turned to look at him. "Because I have some idea of the state I was in." She shook her head. "Eight days doesn't seem long enough."

"There's an explanation for that. Do you think you can stand?"

"I'm not sure, but I know I could eat."

He chuckled. "I'll have something brought in to you in a bit. Let me help you up."

Kelly moved slowly. She made sure the gown was tied around her, then she moved her legs over the edge of the bed. The deep bruises that had been there were mostly gone. At first her knees trembled and she took Doctor McCoy's arm for balance. She took a shaky step forward, then another more solid step. By the time they reached the door, her balance had returned. She still felt weak, but she was able to move on her own. She sat down on the bed again when they got back there.

"Dr. McCoy-"

"Please, call me Hank." He smiled.

A smile fluttered over her lips because it was polite. "Hank, I have some idea of how badly I was hurt. The bruises alone wouldn't be gone in eight days."

He looked like he was debating with himself. Finally, he pulled a chair forward and sat down. "Were you aware that you have dormant mutant genes?"

"No, but a lot of people do, don't they?"

He nodded. "They do, but I found that the gene cluster that controls your healing factor was partially active. Victor said you don't scar."

"Well, not in a long time." She looked at him curiously.

"The partial activity kept you from scarring. I was able to more fully activate the rest of those healing genes."

It took her a moment to process what he was saying. "You mean I have a healing factor, like Victor's?"

"Similar to his, yes."

She shook her head. "No. I can feel a wound on my side and there's still one on my head." She touched her forehead lightly. "Victor heals much more quickly than that."

He smiled a little. "The wound on your side is a surgical incision. I had to remove your spleen the first night you arrived. The rapidity of healing is dependent on a number of things; activity of the genes, nutrition, rest."

Kelly looked away. It was almost too much to take in. "You mean I'm a mutant now?" Addled as she felt, the irony wasn't lost on her.

"I'm not inclined to put a label on what you are, other than to say that you're on your way to a complete recovery."

She glanced at him, not entirely certain she believed anything he was saying. "I am?"

He smiled. "I'll need to do some more tests tomorrow, but I would certainly say that you are." He got up. "I'll have some food brought in to you."

"Thanks. Could you bring some Tylenol or something with it? I ache everywhere."

He paused. "Your healing factor will treat any drug I give you as a poison and metabolize it out of your body before it can do you any good. Once you eat and rest I'm sure most of your pain will dissipate."

Kelly's stomach turned when she thought of the agony Victor must have been in as he recovered.

"Kelly?" The doctor walked toward her, concern written on his face.

"Sorry," She forced a smile. "It's just a lot to take in. Is there a shower I can use?"

"In the bathroom. There should be a couple of clean gowns and a bathrobe in there too."

Kelly nodded. He offered his arm. Kelly tried to stand without his help and succeeded.

Creed followed Jimmy into the kitchen and up a set of back stairs into a quiet wing and then into a room strewn with clothing and empty beer bottles. He could tell from the scent that the room was his brother's.

Creed wrinkled his nose and looked around. "Goddamn Jimmy, you ain't got that southern fried cunt trained yet?"

Jimmy turned on him and growled. "You watch you fucking mouth. She's just a kid!"

Creed rolled his eyes. "Oh please. She's what? Twenty?"

Surprise registered on Jimmy's face. "Yeah."

Creed shrugged. "Then she ain't a kid. And just because she can't touch your dick don't mean she can't come in here and change your sheets now and then."

"You're a bastard."

"I'm an honest bastard. All that 'she's too young' shit is just so you can keep torturing yourself."

"That's bullshit-"

"I can just hear it now, 'She doesn't need all my shit.' 'Once she really gets to know me, she'll leave.' 'I'll hurt her somehow.' 'She'll find out what I did.' You probably got a shitload more of 'em kicking around in that metal-plated head of yours. Just means if you keep her away she can't reject you. When she finds some skinny kid to make eyes at, you can get all hurt and pissed off and have an excuse to run."

Jimmy looked at him closely. "Sounds like experience talking."

Creed shrugged. "Known you long enough to know how your head works. S'pose the bathroom is just as much of a pit?"

Jimmy tossed clothes at him. Creed looked at them and realized they were a black version of the sweats he was wearing. He told himself that they were clean and disappeared into the bathroom.

Kelly sat on the edge of the bed. A dish of fresh melon salad was on the tray in front of her. The turkey sandwich she'd been given was only a delicious memory. The shower had made her feel more human. The food made her feel stronger, but she still watched the clock as she waited for Victor.

Every little sound made her jump. The sight of the white linoleum on the floor dragged her back to that sterile chamber of horrors. The image of her own bright blood spattered over it came back. Her stomach turned. Her mind started to race as the memories threatened to carry her back to the pain and humiliation and the feeling of being utterly bereft of hope for anything other than death. She forced herself to push those thoughts away, to focus on the knowledge that Victor was going to be there soon and that she now had a healing factor. Sometimes, getting lost in the surface of things brought the most comfort.

The healing factor intrigued that very superficial part of her consciousness. Other than feeling like she was on the mend, she didn't really feel any different. She wondered if that meant that she wasn't really a mutant, or if it meant that other abilities would develop later. Hopefully the tests tomorrow would give her a better idea.

She heard a soft sound in the doorway. The scream rose in her throat, but stuck there. The sound came out in a strangled whimper. She scrambled back, nearly upsetting the tray. An instant later, she recognized Victor's broad frame.

"Frail?"

Kelly could hear the concern in his voice. She turned away. "I'm sorry." Tears started to slip down her cheeks. She drew her knees up and hugged them. She felt him sit down, then he stroked her back.

"You ain't gotta explain." He squeezed her shoulder and she turned toward him. He reached out to her, but there was a hesitancy she didn't usually see there. Kelly moved forward, waiting for some reproach. When she settled against his chest, he held her. "The kind of shit you been through fucks with your head."

She shook her head and relaxed against him. His musky, masculine scent was a little slice of heaven. His fingers tangled in her wet hair, claws teasing her scalp as he separated the strands.

"Where are we?" Her voice was soft.

He looked down at her. "You don't know?" Worry flickered through his eyes.

"I know it's a hospital, but Hank didn't tell me which one." She started to tremble. "I know they took me on a plane, but I don't know where that plane ended up or how long it took-"

He held her tighter. "It's not a regular hospital. It's the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, or whatever the fuck he's calling it these days. You're back in New York state." He picked up the unfinished dish of melon. "Finish. Food fuels your healing."

Kelly ate the last few bits slowly. He looked at her strangely when she handed the empty bowl back. "What?"

"Conlon told me you were drugged when they took you away."

"I was. I know they injected me with something." Kelly rubbed absently at her shoulder, even though the pain of the injection was long gone. "I guess they didn't use enough. I woke up in the back of a van or an SUV." She looked up at him.

He looked like he might have been about to say something. The sound of the door opening sent a rush of terror through Kelly's consciousness. She curled up as tightly as she could and hid against Victor, certain that an attack was imminent. He held her close.

The scent of the frail's terror ripped at something inside him. He glared at the woman in pink scrubs. "What?"

"I-I came for Miss Demmer's tray." The blond bitch smelled almost as scared as the frail did. It was an ephemeral kind of fear though. The kind that faded quickly.

"Then take it and get out. And don't come back tonight."

"I need to check on-"

"Look through the fucking window. You can see she's breathing." He held the frail close, giving her a place to hide.

The woman in pink picked up the tray and walked out quickly. He didn't give a shit about her, or what she thought or felt. All that mattered were the pairs of circular burns he'd seen among the bruises and blood on the frail's body when he'd first found her. Nobody needed to tell him they came from a stun gun. Her reaction told him that they'd used it to control her when they took her out of the cell. Given the number of marks, probably as torture other times too.

He purred softly. The tension started to leave her body. She took an unsteady breath.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was an unsteady whisper.

"For what?" He stroked her back.

"Being so jumpy, so-." She relaxed more fully.

"'F you say anything about being weak I'm gonna fucking test that new healing factor of yours." His voice was a soft rumble.

Despite his harsh words, the scent of her fear started to drain away. She looked up at him. "What would you call it then?"

"Don't know, but I do know you're here and everybody else in that bunker is feeding maggots. I'd say you won." He stroked the cut on her head with one finger. She didn't flinch.

She knew it was because of him that she had survived in the first place. She kept that thought to herself. "Feels like it's almost gone." She reached up and found his fingers, following their path.

He couldn't resist a little smile. "Cause it is. The ape explain?"

She shook her head. "He didn't say much. I'm not sure I could have processed much." She looked up at him and smiled a little. "You shaved."

"Yeah." He pulled her head down against his chest. "Figure as long as I was getting cleaned up I might as well do it right."

Her hands moved over his back. Her body relaxed against him. "Do I smell like them? To you, I mean."

She didn't have to explain who 'them' was. The idea that she'd worry about that made it hard to breathe. He held her tighter. "No frail. I can smell the ape on you and some of the nurses who've been in and out." He pushed her back on the narrow bed. His head moved down over her body. Fear crested and ebbed as he moved down from her neck.

"You smell like warm sun on sweet pines." He lingered at her breasts, his lips touched each nipple through the thin cotton of her gown. They hardened and made little peaks.

"Vanilla sugar cookies." He moved downward, the tip of his nose teased the depression of her navel.

"Cold water over rocks." Little rushes of anxiety surrounded her as he moved lower. He stroked the outsides of her hips carefully while his head hovered over the crux of her legs, taking in the familiar sweet scent of her core. Her back arched. A little moan escaped her lips. She squeezed his shoulder, her eyes closed. The more he lingered, the more nervous she got. He saw her look over at the uncovered window. He grinned up at her. "And you still smell like me."

She blushed deeply. He got up. "Get under the covers. I need some sleep and I'll be goddamned if I'm gonna try and sleep in that fucking chair again." He took off his shirt, then turned off most of the lights. He lowered the rest of the sides on the bed. Creed told himself that he was simply exhausted, that he needed to sleep if he was going to get her out of there tomorrow. He rationalized that the frail was calmer when she was close to him and that if she was calm he'd get more rest. It was all bullshit. He needed to feel her close to him, warm and breathing, to reassure himself that she really was alive.

She looked at him nervously as he tried to make himself comfortable on the narrow bed. Finally, he pulled her against his chest. He felt her tremble.

"Cold?" His voice was soft.

"A little." She relaxed against him.

He pulled the thin blanket up over her shoulders. One hand moved between the ties on the back of her gown. She flinched when he touched her skin, then she relaxed into him. For a few minutes, his fingers drifted over her spine. Each one of her bones stood out under the pads of his fingers. Anger and guilt rose in his chest.

"Not your fault." Her voice was a sleepy whisper.

"You think I need to hear that?" The words were too swift and too harsh. He knew it as soon as they were out. Why the fuck did he have to screw everything up?

She snuggled closer. "No. I needed to say it."

He twined his legs with hers. "Right at that minute, huh?"

Despite the dim light, he saw the slight smile that touched her lips. "You got tense. I guessed."

He growled softly. ""F that fucking ape gave you something to put you in my head even more than you already are, I'll kill him." He kissed the top of her head.

She fell silent again. He could feel the tension leaving her body in slow degrees.

Her lips brushed the front of his chest. "What happens now?"

"Well, right now you shut the fuck up so's I can get some sleep." The soft, purring tone was at odds with the harshness of the words. Still, it was normal and he told himself that she needed normal. "Tomorrow, you'll do as many of the ape's tests as you want to, I'll coordinate with Conlon-"

"Conlon's alive?"

"Was when I left him at the gate. How'd you think we got here?"

She shook her head a little. Tension crept back in. "I remember you finding me, and then there were a lot of strangers around me. I don't know how I got from one place to the other."

"He was shot, but he's alive." Creed didn't tell her he wasn't sure how long that was going to last. "Xavier wouldn't let him in. He's waiting for my phone call. Anyways, once you're ready, we'll head back to Chicago."

She nodded and closed her eyes again.

He watched her breathing become deep and regular. Her scent sweetened too. If he really concentrated, Creed could just about find the change in her underlying scent, the part of the palette that provided the structure for the rest. Not quite human, not quite mutant. Either that or he was too fucking tired and he was imagining things. Didn't matter. She was alive and for the moment she still trusted him. The rest he'd figure out later. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes.

Kelly woke up slowly. The bed felt wrong under her. Her back was cold. As she came back to herself more, she realized she heard Victor breathing next to her. She opened her eyes and glanced around at the sterile room. The memory of waking up in Victor's arms came back. It looked like a hospital, but he'd told her it wasn't. She couldn't remember what he'd called it though. She guessed it didn't really matter, as long as he was there.

In spite of the fact that she was covered, she was starting to shiver.

Kelly slid out from under Victor's arm. When she stood up, he caught her wrist.

"Frail?" Despite the sleepy growl, she heard the worry there.

She gripped his hand. "I'm cold. I'm going to see if I can find another blanket somewhere."

He sat up and found the sweatshirt he was wearing. "Put this on."

Kelly pulled it over her head. "Thanks." She settled next to him again.

"What the fuck did you do, stop eating entirely?"

"Yes." She hoped he wouldn't hear the soft whisper.

He wrapped his hand in the back of her hair and forced her to look at him. He looked more shocked than angry. "Don't ever do that again."

"I thought you were dead. Your blood was on my face-"

"So you gave up?" Now the anger was making an appearance.

She shook her head. "I tried to get away when they put me on the plane. Whatever they had given me had worn off while we were still on the road somewhere. I head them talking about putting me on a plane and I figured it was my best chance to try and run. My legs were shackled. I don't think I got fifty feet." She smiled a little. "I guess I managed to kick one of them pretty good though. Twice."

He chuckled. "Scrappy frail."

"That's how I got the start of the wound on my head." She rubbed it and found only smooth skin. "They injected me again and I woke up in that cell." She started to tremble. "Every time they came in..."

"I saw the burns."

Kelly nodded. She hadn't wanted to say it. Putting it to words would have made it too real. Even in the safety of Victor's arms she wasn't ready to face it. "I thought you were dead, and they kept trying to make me tell them your name-"

He rubbed the back of her neck. "And you got stubborn."

"I felt like I was betraying you. Even if you were dead, I wasn't going to do that."

He shook his head and looked into her eyes. "I ain't gonna lie to you. The shit I'm in, it makes you a target too. I'll do my best not to fuck up again-"

"You didn't-"

"Bullshit. I ignored my instincts and then I walked out of that cabin like some a fat ass tourist on a road trip." He gripped her hair a little tighter. "That won't happen again. You gonna let me finish what I was sayin'?"

His gruff tone didn't completely cover the notes of guilty pain in his voice. An ache settled in Kelly's chest. She brushed her lips over his. "Yes."

"'F I fuck up again, you do anything you have to in order to keep yourself intact and alive until I can get to you. I don't give a shit what you have to tell them. We can deal with the fallout after you're safe. That engineered healing factor can only do so much on it's own. Unless I'm in pieces, you can be damn sure I'm coming after you. You got that?"

Kelly nodded.

"Out loud." His attempt at a rough tone fell flat.

She complied anyway. "I understand."

"Good. You ready to go back to sleep?" His grip on her hair eased. His claws teased the back of her scalp.

"Yes. Can I put my back to you?"

"Hold on." He got up and Kelly turned over. He got in behind her again. It took some shifting for them both to find comfort. "I'll be glad to get back into a bed that ain't the size of a fucking postage stamp."

Kelly laughed softly.

He growled and gave her right nipple a startlingly accurate pinch. Kelly squeaked and pushed her bottom against him. "Keep rubbing your ass against me like that, frail. I might be tired but I can fuck you in my sleep."

"Here?" Kelly felt a deep blush rise to her cheeks.

She felt him shrug. "I'd strip you naked and fuck you in the fountain at the goddamn mall."

Kelly couldn't resist a shocked little giggle. "Victor!"

"What? I can't help it if you're too fucking shy." The little smirk was obvious in his voice. "'Course I like having you all to myself too."

She gripped his hand to still the ache in her chest. "I'll try and stay still." She couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice.

"I don't give a shit what almost happened, frail. You're still all mine. Always will be, no matter what."

Kelly gripped his hand tighter for a minute, the felt the tension start to leave her body.

Creed felt her relax as she moved from a light doze into a deep sleep. If this was anything like when she got away from Dawes she'd have a couple of good nights before the nightmares started. Might be more, might be less depending on how much she'd already repressed and how it came out. All he knew for sure was that it would come out. Infection always did.

He had no fucking idea how to help her through it either.

He'd turned hurt and fear and helplessness into rage and aggression and wholesale slaughter. She wouldn't. She might try it, but she wouldn't get lost in it the way he had. He knew that. She'd turn it inward and figure out a way to make the whole damn thing her own fault. That idea made the marrow of his bones ache.

She whimpered softly in her sleep. A moment later she started to tremble. His arm tightened around her waist. A deep purr rumbled through his chest. She tensed, then calmed.

At least this time she wouldn't be fighting through the dreams alone on a couch. He held her tighter and closed his eyes.

Kelly woke up when Victor shifted in bed. She felt him get up. Fear shot through her.

"Victor?" Her voice was still thick with sleep.

He brushed the hair out of her face and nipped the side of her neck. "Stay there. I'm goin' to get us some breakfast. Be back soon."

Kelly watched him leave, and felt her heart contract when he left her sight. With him gone, it was so easy to think that she had dreamed the whole thing. Still, she was wearing a sweatshirt that was far too big for her, and the pillow did smell like him. She stretched carefully. The wound on her side still tugged painfully when she raised her arms. The rest of the aches were gone. Her head was clearer too.

A quick trip to the bathroom told her that her balance and strength was back. When she got back out she shifted the tray she'd eaten from the night before and lowered it so that someone sitting in one of the two chairs could eat from it comfortably. She moved the other chair so that they could eat facing each other. Next, she made up the bed. The small nods at domesticity brought her out of her own head for a few minutes.

The soft click of the door opening still made her jump.

"Just me, frail." Victor said. He glanced around. "Goddamn, if I'd been gone another ten minutes you'd have started repainting the place."

She blushed. "No."

"Right. You'd have washed the walls first." He sat down in the recliner and pulled her into this lap.

Kelly smiled and snuggled close. "Just trying to keep my hands busy."

"Wait 'til we get out of here. I'll give you something to do with at least one of your hands." His voice held a seductive purr. One hand started moving under the hem of her gown. She stopped it by lacing her fingers with his.

She felt a blush spread over her cheeks. "How's Cody doing?"

He looked away and shrugged. "Conlon would have called if there were any big changes. I'll find out later this morning."

She nodded. "Why didn't you tell me you had a brother?"

"Lotta shit gone on between us. Had no fucking idea where to start." He looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Why? He been on your mind already?"

Kelly recognized the dangerous growl and the implication. She sat up and locked her eyes on his. "I'm yours, Victor Creed. I don't care who walks through that door, or who looks at me on the street, nothing will change that fact. I can't just turn off my curiosity, though. If you have any female relatives who suddenly appear, I'll wonder about them too."

For a long moment, he simply stared at her. Then, a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. "Too fucking much." He kissed her firmly, his claws bit into her thigh. His tongue found hers. Kelly knew she shouldn't let herself get lost in the rising tide of emotion and physical sensation, but her logic and her body were decidedly disconnected. The aching need to feel like his again had already taken over. For the moment, she gave in to that need.

She turned and straddled his lap while his mouth and tongue asserted his dominance over hers, making it clear that even though she was on top for the moment, he was still completely in control. Her hands moved over his bare chest, fingers teasing his nipples.

A deep growl vibrated through his chest. One hand mauled her breast and nipple . The other clutched at her bottom, pulling the crux of her legs tightly against his rapidly growing erection, sending a rush of wetness and heat between her legs. She moaned into his mouth.

She pressed her hips forward, teasing him and herself at the same time. "That was quick." She smiled. Her tongue teased his lips and the tip of his tongue.

"You figured I'd fuck you when you were comatose?" His claws dug into her bottom, holding her still.

"No." She rocked against him.

"So since I ain't interested in fucking anybody else, means it's a goddamn good thing you got that healing factor now." One hand went under the gown and the sweatshirt. Claws raked slowly over her bottom and down to her knee.

Kelly felt the contraction of pleasure and stinging pain deep between her legs. She trembled and relaxed against his chest.

"Good as you smell, I'm surprised I ain't cum yet." He kissed her hard.

Kelly broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his.

"Frail-" A frustrated growl permeated his voice.

"Does that door lock?"

A deep sigh. "You kiddin' me?" He shifted her so that she curled up against his chest with her legs resting over her lap. He stroked the thin red trails on her thigh. "The whole time we been here, there's been someone else in the room. Guess they thought I was gonna kill you or something."

She snuggled into him. The burn was rapidly fading from the scratches. "Why? You brought me here to save me."

"Told you I got history with Jimmy. I got history with the rest of them too. Most of it's bad and what ain't so terrible is so fucking overshadowed that it might as well be bad." He concentrated on his claws as they traced intricate designs on her pale skin. "Nobody said so, but I'm pretty sure that they figured me bringing you here was just a trick to get in the door. Hell, most of 'em probably still think that."

She stroked his cheek. "Thank you."

He nipped the heel of her hand. "Took apart Cavallo's bunker to get to you. Wasn't gonna let you go without a fight."

Kelly smiled. "You're amazing."

He gave a little half-shrug. A mischievous sparkle animated his eyes. "I know it."

Kelly laughed and snuggled against him. His fingers traced the lines of the scratches, or where the scratches should have been. She shifted the hem of the gown. What should have been bright red raised welts had faded to pink trails on smooth skin. The pink was draining away before her eyes.

"It don't make you invincible."

"But you got shot in the head-"

Worry flickered through his eyes. "Mine's different."

"Because you were born with it?"

He covered her thigh again. "No, because it's different for everybody. Jimmy's works a little slower than mine, but even I gotta admit it's faster than most. Conlon's is about average. Depends on the person and a whole lot of other factors. The slower it is, the easier it is to overwhelm it. You start doing stupid shit just because you got it, you're gonna piss me off."

She smiled. "I'll try to be good."

The metallic sound of the door opening made Kelly cringe. Victor's arms tightened around her. An older, dark-haired woman in scrubs came in carrying a tray with two plates heaping with eggs and sausage. Even in her nervous state, Kelly could see the pure hatred in the woman's eyes when she looked at Victor. Anger pushed out the initial shock.

"You shouldn't be out of bed, Kelly." Her eyes were still on Victor.

"Why?" She got up, took the tray and set it on the table. There was a slight twinge in her side, but she ignored it easily. "I'm fine." She selected the plate with the sausage that looked the least done and handed it to Victor along with some silverware.

"And you certainly shouldn't be waiting on _him_." The woman grabbed Kelly's elbow.

Rage and terror blinded Kelly. She twisted her arm away from the strange woman and shoved her as hard as she could into the doorframe. "Don't you ever touch me again!" The words were forced out between her clenched teeth.

Shock was written across the woman's face. The rage abated enough for Kelly to be surprised by her own behavior.

"Frail." Victor waited for her to look at him before he grasped her upper arms. She stepped back into him.

She shook her head. "I-I'm so sorry."

The nurse looked at her with cold anger, straightened her clothing and walked out.

Kelly felt tears sting her eyes.

"Was her own fucking fault." Victor guided her to sit down. "They all got some idea of what you been through. She should know better."

"Still-"

"She'll get over it." He sat down across from her. "Eat."

Creed watched her start to pick at the eggs. He knew she didn't want them at first, but she ate to make him happy. That suited him just fine. If her healing factor worked like his, it meant her metabolism would be moving faster than usual too. A few bites in, she found her appetite. She didn't finish, but he hadn't expected her to. Once she offered, he finished the rest. All of it made him realize how much he'd missed these quiet moments as well as her cooking. After the meal, she curled up the chair, her eyes closed.

"Tired?" He could still see the dark circles etched under her eyes.

"Kind of." She didn't open her eyes. "I shouldn't be, I slept pretty good."

"Healing takes energy. Most of the time this was healing," He pointed at the side of his head. "I was asleep. Even stuff that ain't so big, I tend to sleep a lot if I can."

He knew that wasn't the only reason she wanted to sleep. If she was asleep she wouldn't have to think about it, wouldn't have to face it directly. That wouldn't do shit for her in the long term. In the beginning it might let her start to process it in bite-sized pieces.

The door opened and she cringed again. She was getting better at hiding it, but he could still smell the sharp spike of fear that permeated her scent. The ape came in carrying a clipboard. Her fear dissipated to a kind of nervous undercurrent.

"Good morning." He smiled at the frail. "Ready for those tests we talked about last night?"

Creed stood, stepping between the ape and the frail. "I got conditions."

"This isn't up to you." The ape's eyes were locked on his.

"Like hell it's not. I know the kind of shit 'experiments' go through and I'll be goddamned if I'm gonna let you do that to her."

The anger was there in narrowed eyes and a sharp scent. "You really think I'd-"

"I got no fucking idea what you 'would' or 'wouldn't'. I'm here to tell you that she's in charge of this. She wants to stop, your tests are done. I don't give a shit what else you want to know. You don't cut her, or burn her, or any of that shit to test her healing factor. You've already seen it work."

The ape gripped the clipboard. He'd moved beyond anger into pissed off. "Am I allowed to repeat the genetic profile? I'll need to swab the inside of her cheek to do it."

He glanced at the frail. She nodded. "You can do that."

"Anything else?" The ape's teeth were clenched. Creed had the feeling that if the frail had been out of the room, he would have had a fight on his hands.

"Ain't heard you agree to that yet." Creed leaned against the chair the frail was sitting in. His arms were crossed.

"Of course I agree. It's not my intention to-"

"Good." He looked at the frail. "I'll need my shirt back." His voice was softer.

"Sorry." She stood up. "I forgot I was wearing it." She disappeared into the bathroom with the thin robe.

He glanced over at the ape. Some of his anger had abated and was replaced by confused curiosity.

"What?" He didn't take his eyes off the closed door.

"You care about her." He sounded downright shocked.

"That's none of your fucking business."

The frail came out again with the robe wrapped around her. She handed the shirt back to him. He gripped her hand. "You want to stop, you say so. I'll be in yelling distance."

She nodded and he walked out. He had some shit to get together before they left.


	23. And Barters

**Hi everyone,**

**I know this has taken a terribly long time and I apologize for that. Real life intervened and for some reason I just wasn't able to get it 'right'. I hate to post a chapter that seems less than the others because I feel like I'd be letting down the you loyal readers. I hope this new chapter is up to your high standards.**

**The recap: Victor brought Kelly to Xavier's where she was given an experimental treatment that left her with a healing factor. She is physically recovering, but is just beginning a psychological recovery. Because of her highly traumatized state, she may misinterpret the meaning and intentions of others.**

**Happy Holidays!**

**psyche b.**

23. ...and Barters

The blue doctor watched Victor walk out the door, then he smiled at Kelly. "I don't need tests to see that you're doing well." He set the clipboard down.

Kelly smiled a little. "The ache in my bones is mostly gone. My head is better. I can barely see the incision on my side. I'm kinda tired, but Victor told me that healing takes energy, so I guess feeling tired is normal."

He nodded. "It is. Could I have a look at the incision?"

"Sure."

"If you'll open the ties on your gown and lay on your side. I'll cover the window and give you a few minutes to arrange your clothing."

Kelly waited until he had the window covered, then she arranged herself so that he could see the long incision. The robe was around her waist like a blanket, protecting her modesty. He knocked a few minutes later, then came in and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "Let me know if you have any pain." He stretched the skin along the edges of the wound, then applied a little pressure along its length. Kelly groaned as he reached the front of the wound.

"Pain?"

"It just feels too tight. Like there are stitches there, but I can see there aren't. Most of the time I don't feel it. Just when I move certain ways."

"There are several layers of tissue that are healing. Your skin is healing faster than the underlying muscle. I can't really say how long it'll take because I'm not completely certain how fast your healing factor works, but I'll recommend that you be careful for another few days." He pulled the gown back down. "I'm going to give you a list of words to remember, and I'll ask you for them later."

"Okay."

"House, pencil, blue, donkey."

Kelly nodded. "Got it."

"You look like you were walking confidently. Any dizziness?" He took off the gloves and started making notes on the clipboard.

"No." Kelly arranged the gown around herself and sat up.

"Trouble finding words?"

"No."

"Do you know where you are?"

"I thought it was a hospital at first. Victor told me it was a school and he told me the name, but I don't remember it all. His sweatshirt said something about Xavier's school."

He smiled. "Close enough. The day of the week?"

"No one told me what day it was yesterday, but if I had been here eight days then I'll guess that today is Tuesday."

Another small smile. "Yes it is."

"Thinking about those sweats, you wouldn't happen to have a set in my size would you? I feel strange sitting around like this."

He nodded. "I want to get the cheek swab first and then I'll bring you something to change into. What were the words I asked you to remember earlier?"

"House, pencil, blue, donkey." Kelly answered without hesitation.

He nodded and made another note, then he pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. He took a package out of the pocket of his lab coat. "This is just a sterile swab." He opened the package. "I'll have you open your mouth and I'll rub it along the inside of your cheek to pick up a few epithelial cells."

"Straight out of C.S.I., huh?" She smiled a little and opened her mouth.

He laughed while he ran the cotton end of the swab over her left cheek. "Something like that. They look for the presence of certain genes. I'll be able to develop a profile that shows how your genes are functioning." He slid a plastic cover over the cotton tip of the swab. "Alright. I'll get you some clothes and then we can talk more."

Kelly's eyes narrowed. "Talk about what?"

He looked at her for a long moment, as if weighing his options. "The experience you've had-"

"No." Her voice was firm. Tension rippled through her muscles.

He sat down. "Kelly, keeping silent about this-"

"It's none of your business." Kelly's voice rose. She gripped the edge of the robe tightly.

He studied her with a direct gaze. She recognized the look as something that was supposed to inspire uncertainty in a younger person. Kelly had been through too much for that to work. She stared back.

"You're not going to change my mind. I appreciate the fact that without you I would have died. I can't thank you enough for that. If you want to tell me more about how I went from death's doorstep to waking up feeling pretty much okay with a new healing factor, I would love to listen. As to the rest, I don't know you, I don't trust you, and I'm not telling you anything."

He was silent a moment longer, then he got up. "I'll get you some clothes."

Kelly curled up in the chair in front of McCoy's desk. Her chin rested on top of her knee as she listened to his explanation of genes and methyl molecules and histones and other things that she'd never heard of. When she cut through the jargon, the basic concept of genes becoming active or silent depending on experience made some sense to her. It sparked an idea too. She spent the last few minutes of his explanation deciding how to phrase it.

"So, if I had siblings, would they have the same dormant mutant genes?"

She caught the slight narrowing in his eyes. "It's possible, but each sibling would have a unique complement of them. Even within the same family, children have different experiences which activate and silence different genes. Why?"

"If someone gave one of those siblings the same IV I got, would it make him or her sick?"

"It stresses the body in very specific ways and that, in turn, accelerates methylation. A healthy person probably wouldn't notice anything other than the inconvenience of being hooked up to an IV for several days. If the person were already ill, or injured, the risk is slightly increased. No matter the situation, seeing results is highly unusual. Do you ask because of your brother?"

Kelly's fingers bit into her leg. "Who said I have a brother?"

He sat back. "Your stepfather has a fondness for television appearances, and for using his personal tragedies as a rallying cry for the anti-mutant community." For a moment he was silent. "He speaks a great deal about your murder."

Kelly was certain she heard a threat in his voice. It made her stomach clench. She was on her feet and backing away, heart pounding, mind racing with no other thought than self-preservation. "Where's Victor?"

He stood slowly. "Kelly-"

"If Stan finds me again, he'll kill me!" She held onto her arms, trying to keep from trembling.

"And you think Victor won't?"

She stared at him for a moment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He walked around the desk. "There is a body that's been officially identified as yours. Of course it was a visual identification because there were no teeth, no hands, and the DNA was destroyed by heat. It's either a stunning coincidence or Victor attempted to set the scene."

Kelly met his eyes. "So what if he did?"

Surprise flickered over his face. "Whoever she was, she didn't deserve that."

"And I didn't deserve what Stan put me through. Life is profoundly unfair on so many levels." She could feel the anger constricting her chest, making it hard to breathe.

"That doesn't give him the right to kill an innocent woman-"

"I don't care if it was one woman or a hundred." Her eyes were on his.

"You can't mean that."

One finger tapped angrily against her bicep. "What do you want? You want me to lie and say my heart breaks every time I think about it? That I can't sleep at night because of the guilt? I'm glad to be alive and I intend to stay that way. No matter what."

"What did it buy you?" He was looking down his nose at her.

Kelly dug her nails into her palms. "Time enough for Victor to be there when Stan made his move. Are we done or do you want to try and make me feel guilty awhile longer?"

He leaned back against the desk. "I'm wondering if you're trusting someone who doesn't deserve it."

"Oh, so you want to read back a litany of every terrible thing Victor has ever done." Kelly was shaking now.

"Kelly-"

"You're a little late. Müller already did that, when he wasn't taking breaks so that his assistants could beat the hell out of me. If you're going to do it again I think I'd like to sit down. My head was kinda foggy but it seems like it took quite awhile."

"You have other options." There was a genuine concern in his eyes.

Kelly felt some of the tension leave her body. "I don't need other options."

"Are you certain of that?"

Kelly looked away. "I see how everyone here looks at him. Nothing I say is going to be enough."

"Tell me something I don't know about him."

Kelly shrugged. There seemed to be too many things to list. "He found my grandparents for me. I hadn't seen them since my mother married Stan. I talked to them just about every day before all this happened. We even spent time in Ohio with them."

"We?"

"Victor and I. And before you ask, they're still alive and well."

He smiled slightly. "That is something I didn't know."

She looked up at him. "Am I okay? Are we finished?"

"The treatment was very experimental, but you're on the mend."

The phone call to Conlon took no more than five minutes. He found out that the kid's condition hadn't changed all that much. The other mutant could be at the gate in fifteen minutes. Creed told him he'd call when the frail was ready to go.

"She's alright then?"

The question pissed him off. "What the fuck kind of a question is that? You saw that place. You saw the kind of state she was in." Jimmy walked in and lingered across the room. He was doing his best to look like he wasn't paying attention, but Creed didn't buy that.

"She's alive though."

He watched Jimmy. "Fucking lucky for you that she is too."

"I didn't-"

"You keep telling yourself that. Be ready to leave when I call back." He ended the call. Jimmy looked up. Creed was watching him. "Get an earful, Runt?"

The runt smirked. "Sleep well?"

"You spying on me now?" It pissed him off, but Creed couldn't say that he was surprised.

Jimmy shrugged. "I remember how you were when we shared space on a regular basis-"

"Was that before or after you decided I wasn't worthy of your company?"

Jimmy growled, but went on. "When we shared space, you got pissed off if I so much as breathed too loud."

"What's your point?"

"I was curious."

"You were jealous."

"You wish."

"I have what you don't and whether you admit it or not, it's eating you up inside." Creed grinned. "But it was a damn sight nicer laying next to her than sitting there with you staring at me. Where's the coat I had her wrapped up in when we got here?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"I need to find it and then I need to see your boss."

"He wants to see you too."

Creed started to look around the large room. "Well don't that just make things convenient." He finally found a red plastic bag sealed with tape with "Biohazard" printed on it. Even through the plastic he could still smell the frail's fear and the rotting blood of her captors. The image of her on the floor, bleeding and broken, flashed before his eyes. The low growl was out before he could stop it.

Jimmy appeared by his side. "Look-"

"Shut the fuck up." Goddamn runt felt sorry for him. He could hear it in the smaller man's voice. Creed couldn't meet his eyes. "We goin' to see the old man or not?"

Jimmy didn't move. "It sticks with you. Just like the wars and all the other shit, you can't unsee it and you can't change it."

Creed stepped close to his brother, his eyes clashing with the other man's. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, and I ain't got time to stand here and listen to you spew your nonsense." A warning growl permeated his statement.

Jimmy's anger flashed, but the other feral stepped away. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, you're just too fucking stubborn to admit it. Come on."

Creed clutched the plastic-covered package and followed his brother across a mostly silent foyer. The runt was right. Just the flash of that image renewed all the anger at himself, all the pain seeing her cringe away from him, the palpable fear of losing her. He shoved all that aside and willed himself to think of anything else.

Jimmy knocked, but Creed didn't wait, he opened the door. The kid the old man was sitting with jumped.

"We'll talk again tomorrow, and I expect that assignment will be complete by then."

The child nodded, but he kept his eyes on Creed. Creed smirked, showing just a hint of fang.

"Do you understand?" The old man prompted.

"Yes." The boy picked up his books and trotted past Creed. The old man waited until the door was closed.

"You could have waited to be acknowledged." He said.

"I could have." Creed sat down. He sliced through the red plastic with one claw. "But I wanted to get this over so we could get outta here. How much?"

"How much?"

Creed felt a flutter against his mind. He growled low and dangerous. "I told you to stay the fuck outta my head."

He nodded. "Forgive me, your question confused me. How much for what?"

"Treatment for the frail." He dug through the gore-stiffened fabric.

"I didn't do this with any expectation of-"

"I don't need your charity and I sure as hell don't wanna owe you anything." He found the hidden compartment in the lining of the coat. He tossed four thick bundles of cash onto the old man's desk. Some of the edges were stained reddish brown. "You tell me how much, take this off the top and tell me where to wire the rest. You'll have it in twenty-four hours."

The old man stared at the cash. Creed thought he saw disgust flicker across his face. He looked away from the stained money. "You're certain that leaving is the best idea for Kelly?"

Creed stared into those cool eyes for a long moment. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I was just wondering if you've considered her needs when making your plans." Cool, cultured voice. Absolutely controlled, detached and positively maddening.

Creed did his best to suppress the deep growl that rose in his chest. He didn't want to give the old man the satisfaction. He glanced over at Jimmy. His brother looked away. Creed wasn't sure what that meant yet. "Still waiting for you to tell me what that's supposed to mean."

"You know the ordeal she's been through."

"Better than you do."

The old man nodded slightly. "Then you know recovery will be a long process. I'm offering her the ability to recover in safety, to finish her education-"

Creed's claws bit into the leather arms of the chair. "As long as I'm outta the picture."

"A time without distractions would be-"

"I ain't a distraction, I'm her fucking mate! 'F you don't know what that means you can ask Jimmy. Be interesting to see if he remembers."

"I will not allow you or anyone else to use my school as a base of operations for wholesale murder."

"Wholesale?" Creed smirked. "Trust me, ain't nobody gettin' it wholesale from me."

Anger flickered over the old man's face. "Severe trauma like the kind Kelly's been through can play havoc with a young woman's emotional state. She may form intense but unhealthy attachments with-"

"Her captor." Creed finished with a barely concealed growl. "You think she's developed an attachment to me because it's safer for her. She keeps me happy, she stays alive. In the beginning you figure she was just doing it until she could figure a way out. Course as time went on and I didn't kill her, she started to to really identify with me, to rely on me for pretty much everything. To believe that I was being good to her when all I was really doing was not hurting her too bad." The old man sat back in his chair. "You ain't the only one who's ever read a psychology textbook."

"Then you should understand the fragile state that Kelly is in." The old man gave a small smile, as if he were making progress.

"So to fix all this shit you want me to leave her where she doesn't want to be with people she doesn't know and doesn't want to be with, but who are pretty fucking invested in keeping her here." Creed watched the old man's eyes narrow slightly. "Who would she be forced to rely on then?"

Jimmy covered a laugh with a cough.

"There's no comparison between the two situations." Controlled anger laced the old man's voice.

"In your opinion. It's gettin' late. You got any other arguments?"

He took a deep breath. "And if she isn't ready to go?"

"Didn't we just go through that?"

"I mean physically. You know how much energy healing takes and you know how serious her internal injuries were. Her bruises and skin has healed. The rest will require time."

He knew alright. The ape had gone down the list and that didn't even include the surgery. Beyond being physically exhausted, Creed knew that the frail needed time to start to process some of it. He'd decided to give her a day of traveling and see how she was. They could hide out for a few days if she needed to get her bearings. "She'll sleep on the way. You decided how much yet?"

As soon as Kelly stepped out of Hank's office, she looked around for Victor. When she didn't see him, panic started to rise in her chest. "Professor Xavier wanted to meet with him." Hank said. "I'm sure he'll still be there when we get there."

Kelly stopped and looked up into his eyes, studying his face. A muscle tensed and relaxed in his jaw. "You think he's gone."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." Anger at him and fear that he was right wrestled in her chest. She fought to control it. "Where is this office?"

"This way." He lead her through the foyer and down another hallway. The place looked more like an opulent manor house than a school. She glanced over at Hank, he was smiling at her. "Quite something, isn't it?"

A smile tugged at Kelly's lips. "I'd hate to have to polish it all."

He laughed and turned down another hallway. This one looked more like a school. A very upscale school. A blond girl trotted around another corner. She stopped in the middle of the hall and stared. Kelly looked away.

"Do I look that awful?" She murmured.

"Of course not-"

"Kelly?" The girl was still staring. At the mention of her name Kelly stopped and stared back. There was something familiar about her. "Kelly Demmer?" She walked closer. Kelly stood still.

Hank stepped forward. "You're late for third period, aren't you?"

The shade of her hair, the way she a black and white marbled notebook to her chest. When she shifted it, Kelly could see that the edges of the pages were colored with intricate designs. It triggered the memory. "Cassie?" Kelly moved forward so that she was peeking out around the blue doctor's body.

The girl nodded. She dropped the notebook and ran toward Kelly. Kelly brushed past Hank and met her halfway, catching her in a tight embrace.

Creed walked out of the office with Jimmy and the old man rolling along behind them. "Look, you can take the money or burn it or set up the fucking Victor Creed Scholarship Fund." He grinned a little bit at that thought. "I don't really give a shit. I'm taking my frail and getting the hell outta here."

When he rounded the corner he stopped short. The frail was smiling and chattering with some girl while the ape tried to shoo the stranger away. He had a flash of white-hot fear, then crushed it with anger.

He turned to the old man. "You did this." His growl was low and dangerous, his claws lengthened. Jimmy stepped in front of him, his muscles tense.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jimmy asked.

"The girl!" His voice was a low growl.

"We've been keeping Kelly's identity secret. I had no idea that Kelly knew anyone here." The old man looked as surprised as Creed felt. Normally, that wouldn't mean a goddamn thing but he got the whiff of surprise from him too.

Creed looked over at the two girls. "Lemme guess, the blond does something with electricity."

Some of the tension went out of Jimmy's muscles. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

Creed's claws retracted. "Me and the frail do more than fuck. Once in awhile we talk to each other. Course I'm sure that idea never occurred to either one of you." He couldn't take his eyes off the frail. He'd seen her smile like that when she looked at him and when she looked at her grandfather. She also looked completely exhausted. "If she stays, I stay with her."

"Out of the question." The old man shook his head. "I will not allow you to make this school your base of operations, nor will I expose my students to you. Of course, if you wanted to give her a chance at recuperation-"

"You been on vacation for the last week?" Jimmy asked. Creed was beginning to smell his brother's anger lacing the air between them. "All he's done is sit with her, just waiting for her to wake up. You ever hear of him doing anything like that?"

"I'll admit, I haven't, though I'm sure-"

"You're sure of what? He's a cold-hearted, manipulative, murderous bastard who never showed anybody the slightest bit of mercy let alone tried to comfort or care for anyone or anything other than himself."

"Well thanks a lot, Jimmy. I ever need an endorsement, I'll know just who to call." Creed turned back to watching the frail.

Jimmy growled. "Shut up and let me finish. He never gave a shit about anybody, except that girl. I don't know why, I don't know how and I sure as hell don't know what brought it on. I can see it in his eyes when he talks about her though." Creed glanced at his brother. "Could see it in the way he held her when she woke up and the way she held on to him last night. That's his mate, and unless you want a bigger fight than you know what to do with, you don't try and separate them."

The old man was silent for a long moment, his eyes flicked from Creed to Jimmy and back again. "This school is not a base of operations for your deadly enterprises."

Creed smirked. "Bein' a murderous bastard has its perks; the pay is good and you get to set your own schedule."

"With conditions, this might be acceptable." The old man said.

Creed rolled his eyes. "How long is this gonna take? I told you I wasn't interested in your little freaks, what more do you want?" Creed said.

"I can't allow you into the mansion without an escort and I have to have daily contact with Kelly, to assure myself of her well-being." The old man said.

Creed growled. "You wanna treat me like I'm shit, that's fine. I wouldn't expect anything else. I ain't gonna let you treat her that way too. If she wants to see you, that's up to her."

"And I'm sure you'll let her make her own decision." Maddening sarcasm laced that cultured voice.

Creed bent down and stared directly into the old man's eyes. "She's not my prisoner. She's not a job. She don't stay because she's scared or because she has no place else to go. She does what she wants, when she wants. Get used to it." He stood up again.

"How long?" Jimmy asked.

"Two weeks. Give her a chance to get her feet under her, give her a chance to get reacquainted with whoever that is." Creed caught the look of surprise in the old man's eyes. He smirked. "Told you I didn't keep her locked up."

"Wouldn't put it past you." Jimmy said.

"Yeah, 'cause I'm the big bad 'captor'. And don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"What-"

"This was all too easy. You want her here so bad you're practically drooling." He walked away from the two of them.

The two girls were still giggling, but when the ape saw him approaching he hustled the blond girl toward a classroom. Neither one was willing to let go of the other though. "Here's my cell number." The frail wrote something on the other girl's hand. "Call me."

"Now Cassandra." There was an air of authority in the ape's voice.

They let go of each other and Kelly turned toward him. She smiled, but he could see the deep exhaustion etched on her face. He stroked her cheek. She put her hand on his wrist and kissed the heel of his hand. In spite of the ape's angry glare, he pulled the frail against his chest. He felt her relax against him, her arms around him, her hands stroking his back. For the first time in days, her scent sweetened and stayed that way for more than a few seconds.

"Are we leaving?" She murmured.

"Not yet, frail."

She looked up at him. He couldn't miss the terror in her eyes. "Why not? You said it was safer in-" She glanced over her shoulder at the ape. "Safer away from here."

He shrugged and led her back toward Jimmy and the old man, his body between her and the following ape. "They got a hell of a system, nobody is gonna get to either one of us. 'Sides, you look like you ain't slept in about a month. A couple weeks' rest'll do you good."

Kelly recognized one of the men they were approaching as Jimmy. His gaze was every bit as intense as it had been the night before. She held his eyes for a moment and then looked to the older man in a wheelchair. A small, kind smile curled the corners of his lips. His eyes were sharply appraising.

"You met Jimmy last night." Victor said.

"Logan." The other man corrected.

Kelly simply nodded. She would figure it out later.

"I'm Professor Charles Xavier. I'm pleased to see you looking so well." His smile widened.

Kelly managed a small smile, but she didn't move away from Victor. His hand rested on her waist.

"You got fifteen minutes," Victor said. Even though she was tired, Kelly knew he wasn't speaking to her.

"And if that isn't what Kelly wants?" Hank said. She couldn't miss the venom in his eyes.

"Kelly can still hear you and she doesn't like being discussed as if she were a piece of furniture." She glared at the blue doctor.

He nodded. "I apologize."

The professor watched her curiously.

"Frankly, I'm not sure how long I'm going to be able to hold an intelligent conversation, but I did want to thank you for letting us come here. I know I would have died otherwise."

He smiled warmly. "You're quite welcome, Miss Demmer. I'd like to get to know you better, but you look as though you could use some rest."

She nodded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be this tired."

"Yeah, you should." Victor said. She stroked the back of his hand. "You gonna keep her standing here all day?"

"There's an empty room on the second floor. You can rest there while the guest house is being prepared." He smiled again. Kelly looked up at Victor. He nodded.

Kelly didn't follow the conversation as Jimmy led them up stairways and through hallways that all looked much the same. She was certain that if she was left to herself, she would get lost within ten minutes.

Creed left the frail sleeping in a comfortable but bland room. She must have been exhausted; she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. He stayed for awhile to make sure she wasn't going to wake up, then he forced himself to leave her long enough to call Conlon and make arrangements to get their luggage. He had every intention of cutting Conlon loose for the moment, but he figured that was something that could wait. It was pretty fucking obvious he didn't have a damn thing to do with what happened to the frail. Didn't make it alright, but it meant that Conlon might still be useful for awhile.

When he got back to the quiet room, he opened the door to find the rumpled bed empty and the thick scent of terror in the air. He walked in slowly, scenting the air as he went, isolating the deepest pool of those pheromones. It took him only a moment to figure out that it was coming from under the bed. For a moment, the pain in his chest meant that he couldn't breathe. He pushed the feeling aside and shut the door. Didn't mean he had a goddamn idea what to do about it. He set their bags down, then he walked around the other side of the bed and sat on the floor.

"Just me frail." The scent of fear dissipated and shifted to something else more along the lines of humiliation. Nothing stirred at first, then she squirmed out from under the bed.

"I'm such an idiot." She tried to move past him.

He grasped her wrist, keeping her from escaping. "You know what an air raid is?"

For a moment, she tried to pull away. The struggle didn't last long, and she shrugged a little. "When planes drop bombs."

He pulled her closer. This time she didn't resist, but she still didn't look him in the eyes. She snuggled against his chest. "I'm guessing you never been in one."

"No."

He could feel her starting to relax. "I was stationed in Europe during World War Two so I been through plenty of 'em." He started trailing his claws through her hair. "Before anything exploded though, they'd set off these sirens to warn people to take cover. I hated those fucking sirens. Half the time I was shut up in a dark hole with bunch of other assholes. Half the time I was behind enemy lines and then when the damn things went off it was worse."

Her arm slid around his waist. "Worse how?" For the first time, her eyes flicked up at him.

"That ain't important. Point is, those fucking sirens made my life a living hell. When I got back to the states, I figured I'd left all that over there. Decided I wanted to live off the base for a change, so I got an apartment in town. Went okay for a week. Then in the middle of the night one of those fucking sirens went off again. Before I could think about where I was or whether or not it made sense, I was under the goddamn bed listening for bombs to start falling. Took me twenty minutes to realize that the war was over and that like a dumbass I'd moved in down the street from a fire station."

She was relaxed enough to look at him, but she didn't and he was grateful for that. She drew little circles on his stomach. "How'd you get over it?"

He shrugged. "I moved."

This time she did look up at him. "And?"

"And what? I moved, no more siren. Eventually, they stopped blowing 'em at every fire."

He felt her tense, the the scent of her anger started to tickle his sensitive nose. "I can't move away from doors. Does that mean I'm going to be cowering for the rest of my life?"

"I dunno." He rubbed the back of her neck and felt her relax again. "I know this shit is like an infection in your brain though. Starts out fucking up one thing and if you avoid that one thing you're okay for awhile. Course it spreads and pretty soon something else is fucked up and it goes on like that until you're always running from something."

"So how do I fix it?"

How the hell was he supposed to answer that? "Hell if I know."

She looked up at him for a long moment, then she looked away and let her hair fall over her face. "Whenever they would take me out of the cell, they'd shock me with something." Her voice was soft, almost inaudible. Didn't really matter, he had no fucking idea what he was going to say to her anyway. He stayed quiet and she went on. "I don't know how long I had been there the first time, but the door hadn't really opened since I got there and then all of a sudden there were these men rushing in. I was too surprised to do anything but they shocked me with something. I don't know what they expected me to do. I hadn't eaten in awhile, hadn't really slept and there were always two or three of them. After that, every time they opened the door they'd shock me." He felt her start to tremble, then he caught the scent of her tears. "At first I tried to rush past them somehow, even though I knew that would never work. Then I tried to be compliant, but that didn't work either. Hearing that lock turn...I got so scared. Toward the end I would try to hide or protect myself somehow. I guess I know that was stupid too."

He held back the growl that was forming in his chest. "It was a tactic. They thought it'd soften you up and make you more willing to answer questions. Didn't work, so you fucked them over again."

She gave a short laugh. "That's not how it felt at the time."

He took a handful of her hair and lifted her head so he could look into her eyes. "Trust me frail, you won."

"Because you were there."

He shrugged. "Course I was. You're my mate."

She looked at him curiously, a little smile tugged at her lips. "Is that different than being yours?"

He looked down at her hand resting on his stomach. Dumbass thing to say it that way. She'd reject him when she had a minute to process what he was saying. "Mine is just until I say you're not. Mate's permanent."

She was silent and that silence was killing him. This was a bad idea. What the fuck did he know about this kind of emotional shit anyway? For all he knew, the old man could have been right and she was just trying to keep him happy so she wouldn't get hurt. He'd tell her he changed his mind. That he had a job and had to leave. Jimmy'd make sure she was taken care of-

She stroked his cheek and he looked at her. She was smiling wider, but tears were collecting in the corners of her eyes again. "So 'mate' is definitely better."

He grinned and kissed her hard, his whole body aching for her.

Kelly moaned into his mouth, her body arched against him. For a moment, the kiss was a passionate struggle between them, each wanting more of the other than mouths and hands could offer. His claws bit into her thigh hard enough to draw a whimper from Kelly. It fed her need and she surrendered. A fang grazed her inner lip. She pulled back just enough to graze his lower lip with her teeth. A growl and a groan got tangled in his throat.

Kelly smiled. "Does that door lock?"

"Fuck yes." A lusty growl laced his words.

Kelly wasn't certain how he sliced through her clothing or how she ended up on her back, but a moment later he was grinning down at her.

"This is not fair." She sat up enough to slide her hands under his shirt. He tugged it off and pushed her back down.

"You still thinkin' I gotta be fair?" His lips teased her peaked nipples while one knuckle moved between her lower lips to tease her entrance. Kelly's fingers bit into his shoulders. "Funny," the rough side of his tongue dragged across her nipple, then he sat up. He brought his finger to his mouth and licked her juices from it. "You don't taste so outraged."

Needy as she was, Kelly blushed. She sat up again and stroked his thick erection through his sweats. "You're not exactly uninterested yourself."

He growled deep in his chest. Kelly recognized the sound as pure pleasure. "How d'you plan to fix that, frail?"

Kelly pushed the pants over his hips, freeing the organ that was the focus of her attention. Both hands stroked its length. She couldn't resist a little smirk. "Who said I was going to fix it? I thought I might just tease you for awhile."

He pushed her back. "Think again, little girl. Offer me what's mine." A hungry grin was on his face.

Kelly opened herself wide and he grasped her thighs, spreading her wider. She reached between them guiding him to her entrance. For a long moment he stayed still, looking down into her eyes. She saw something akin to uncertainty flicker across his face. "I need to feel you inside me." The intensity in her voice was not masked by the soft tone.

He didn't hesitate any longer. He was deep inside her in one swift movement that made Kelly cry out. She arched her back, pushing up against him hungrily. At first, she met his movements, but Victor's aggression soon outstripped hers. Again she surrendered. To him, to his need and to the rapidly cresting pleasure that he so skillfully drew from her body.


	24. The Corners of Her Mind

**Hi Everyone,**

**Not quite as long of a wait, but hopefully just as good as the last chapter. Nothing really to say here except that everyone deals with trauma differently, especially the kind of trauma Kelly has experienced.**

**To recap: Kelly is awake, and Victor has decided that they will stay at the mansion for a few weeks to give her some time to recover.**

**Enjoy!**

**psyche b.**

24. The Corners of Her Mind

Kelly shifted against the rough carpet, then snuggled against Victor's side again. His claws traced over her back in slow circles, a rumbling purr vibrating through his chest from time to time.

"You gonna keep squirming around like that?" His eyes were still closed.

Kelly couldn't repress a little smile. "Well this floor is hard, and I have to say that this carpet isn't nearly as nice as the ones in the house in Maine."

"Fine, next time I see the old man, I'll tell him his floors are unfit to fuck on."

She giggled. "You would."

"Damn right I would." He grinned and sat up. " 'Sides, you were the one who couldn't wait. Get back in bed."

"Me?" She laughed and got back under the blankets. He got in next to her. "You were all 'Show me what's mine'." She did a poor imitation of his lust-filled growl.

He pinched her nipple hard enough to make Kelly yelp. "Just 'cause you ain't even been awake for twenty-four hours yet I'll let that slide." He settled behind her. Kelly could hear the little smile in his voice. She couldn't resist a giggle. "Didn't hear you complaining." He pulled the covers over both of them, then pushed on the back of her thigh.

Kelly knew what he wanted. She tilted her hips and drew her knee up. "Not complaining. Now I know I'm really awake. Before I wasn't so sure."

He settled so that his half-hard member was resting against her most intimate places. It sent a pleasant shiver through her. "You been confused about that?" He was covering the note of concern in his voice. His hips rocked slowly against her. Kelly laced her fingers with his and moved with him.

"I don't know if I would say it that way. It's just that I dreamed so much when I was sleeping or comatose or whatever. Some of that seemed real too, but even if I was dreaming about you, you were always just out of reach." The memory of the disembodied voices and disjointed images that had been her reality came back again. She arched against Victor, using his warmth to banish the ghosts.

"Chasin' after me when you should have been resting." His large hand massaged her breast.

She blushed. "Told you before how tempting you are. Once I was even sure that I was awake and you were holding my hand. I guess I wasn't though."

"You woke up once. Surprised the hell out of everybody." He massaged her nipple, drawing the firm bud into a stiff peak.

"Dr. McCoy said I was in a drug-induced coma." She moaned softly. The broad head of his organ spread her lips wider.

"You were. You shook the drug. It's what got the ape thinkin' you'd respond to his experimental treatment in the first place. Before that, he just figured you were human. Goddamn I forgot how good you smell when you're this wet."

His now rigid shaft made contact with the swollen center of her pleasure. Kelly shifted under him, exposing herself more fully. He growled softly and moved with her, making sure that his body was over hers. His hand moved down to her tummy, his claws biting into the soft flesh there.

"You want somethin'?" He purred next to her hear.

Kelly was too wrapped up in the feeling of him pressing against his entrance and moving away to answer. Each time he did, she clenched a little tighter, grew just a little needier.

"Better answer me, frail." One claw bit into her skin just above her mound. No matter where she moved, that claw followed.

"Yes, please." She reached down to his hand, desperate to ease the sharp pressure. A low growl made her stop.

"Nope. You gotta tell me what you want."

She shifted again so that she was on her knees. That claw was on the edge of breaking her skin. "N-need to feel you inside me. Please." The words came out in a needy whimper.

He pushed forward and her entrance clenched tightly. A soft purr vibrated through his chest and into her back. "Relax for me, frail."

"Can't." There were tears in her eyes. "Your claw-"

He eased some of the pressure, but left it pressed into her flesh. Kelly felt some of the tension in her body ease.

She whimpered. "Now, please."

He held the back of her neck, keeping her immobile against the pillow. For a moment, fear tore through Kelly as the feeling of helplessness consumed her. The same helplessness she felt on that cold tile floor. She felt the soft purr again. It was enough to bring her back to the present.

He pushed forward again. This time though, her tension didn't stop him. Kelly muffled her sharp cry in the pillow when the broad head pushed past her resisting opening. Still, she tilted her hips just slightly, pushing down into his claws but giving him a better angle. He moved slowly, filling her in aching inches. Her soft whimpers mingled and melded with pleasure moans. Finally, he reached the limits of her depths and then kept up a constant pressure there.

"What are you?" The growl in his voice spoke of an intensely primal lust.

"Your mate." She moaned.

He drew his whole length out of her, then filled her again. He growled. "Louder."

"Your mate." He voice was louder and more clear. Her muscles clenched around him.

Once more he filled her completely and then pushed those limits. "Remember this feeling, frail. Your mate over you. Your mate inside you." He pressed his claws in just a little deeper. The stinging pain made Kelly's muscles contract around him. For an eternal moment, he was still. Then he started to move inside her in a slow sensual rhythm that made everything else fade into obscurity. It built a fragile crystal of pleasure around her and when that delicate structure collapsed the pleasure would overwhelm her. The longer it grew, the more intense the release. Kelly wasn't sure which she wanted most, so she went willingly on the journey. Her release came only moments before his.

When Kelly began to come back to herself, she realized that Victor had shifted her onto her back. She felt him moving on the bed. She couldn't speak, but she reached for him.

He caught her hand, then swept his tongue over the one of the small claw indentations on her tummy. She could see now that blood was welling up from three of them. His soft lips and rough tongue drew a little moan from Kelly. She stroked the back of his head until he finished his ministrations. He moved back up her body and kissed her deeply, his hand stroking over the softness of her breast and finally drawing her against his body.

In silence, her fingertips wandered over the contours of his body. His traced the outlines of her delicate bones and the place where the incision had been. It was a slice of safe perfection that needed no words.

The sound of his cell phone shattered the moment.

He growled and sat up.

"Conlon?" Kelly asked.

He fished the phone out of the jumble of clothing on the floor and looked at the message. "Jimmy. He said he'd text when it was safe to get lunch."

He got up and went into the small bathroom. Kelly heard the water running for a few minutes. She pulled the sheet over herself. He came out, still naked, but drying off with one of the white towels.

"Safe?" she asked.

"Jimmy says it's to protect you from too much attention. More likely it's because the old man hasn't decided how much contact I'm allowed to have with his precious students." He pulled on a pair of his own jeans.

Kelly looked away and pulled the sheet closer around herself. "We don't have to stay here. I'm fine-"

"Bullshit." He sat down and wrapped his hand in her hair, forcing her to look at him. "No matter what you're telling yourself about it, I've seen men die from the kind of beating you took. You been comatose for a week, and the only way to bring you out of it was for the ape to fuck with your genes. You've barely eaten, you haven't slept near as much as you need to and even if you had, do you know how many people are looking for the both of us right now?"

"No." Her voice was small, frightened. "But you said-

He eased his grip. "To hell with what I said before, this is what I'm sayin' now." A little smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. "'F I'd known you were gonna be such a pain in my ass I'd've left you sleepin'."

Kelly didn't believe the last part for a minute, but she knew that certain kinds of threats were like endearments to Victor. She turned her head and kissed the inside of his wrist.

"Stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes." He pulled on his shirt and closed the door behind himself.

Kelly stared at the closed door for moment, then wandered toward the shower.

Jimmy was coming down the hall when he stepped out into it. Creed followed the smaller mutant in silence.

"You fucked her." Jimmy said finally. The tone of his voice registered shock and jealousy, but was more heavily weighted with the latter.

"That your business?"

"I can smell it on you."

Creed rolled his eyes. "And you felt you had to mention it."

"Figured you'd at least give her twenty-four hours."

"Quoting from The Great Charles Xavier's Book of Everything Right and Proper?"

The runt growled. "Can't you stop being an asshole for ten minutes?"

"You're the one that brought it up. How am I the asshole here?"

"Because you just take what you want, no matter what-"

The statement sent Creed over the edge. He grabbed the smaller mutant and slammed him against the wall hard enough to rattle the pictures. The runt popped his claws, but Creed was ready. He pinned the other man's arms easily and held him still despite his struggles. "Calm your ass down. I don't feel like going back in there covered in your blood."

"You so sure that's the way it would go?" The runt smirked.

Creed sunk his claws into his brother's wrist and grinned into the other man's eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure."

The runt's low growl spoke more clearly than words. Creed answered with his own.

"You go right ahead and be pissed off at me, but you're gonna listen. I've never taken _anything_ from that girl that she didn't willingly offer. Not this time, not the first time, never. You might hate that little fact, but it's the truth and you damn well know it." He felt some of the angry tension go out of the smaller man's muscles. He glanced at the runt's claws. "Gonna put those away or do we stand here like this all day?"

With a metallic hiss, the blades were gone again. Creed kept his eyes on Jimmy's for another long moment, then he let go. He started down the hall again, then stopped at the top of the staircase they'd come up. He looked down to the end of the hall and another narrower stairway leading off in another direction. "How the fuck do you find your way around here without a map?"

"You get used to it. The next one takes you directly into the kitchen," Jimmy said.

Kelly turned off the water in the shower. She squeezed the water out of her hair and wrapped one of the smaller towels around it. She dried off, then wrapped the one remaining bath-sized towel around herself. As she walked toward their bags, she realized that – healing factor or not – there was still a familiar ache between her legs. It made her smile. Made her feel closer to normal again.

Something else had changed too though. The feeling of dread that had clung to her for the majority of the day had eased. It wasn't gone, but the thought of protecting herself from whoever might come through the door wasn't the first thing in her mind. It was a close second, but her heart and thoughts weren't trying to outpace each other. She wondered if putting words to it was beginning to banish some of the demons.

She didn't kid herself. That feeling probably wouldn't last and she wasn't sure if she could bring herself to reveal any more. The one thing she didn't question was whether or not Victor would listen. She had the distinct impression that there were things he wanted to know, that he just couldn't or wouldn't ask quite yet. For now, she pushed it out of her mind. She had more immediate issues to deal with.

Kelly hadn't talked to her grandparents since before they left. Before the press conference and the news of her death and Cody's injury became fodder for commentators. Victor had told her that Conlon had kept them informed that she was alive but recovering from serious injuries. She knew they must be anxious to hear from her, but the thought of calling brought a fluttering panic to her chest.

Telling them all of what happened wasn't an option. She couldn't bring herself to think about most of it, let alone tell anyone else. Telling them nothing happened wasn't an option either. No matter what she said, they wouldn't be satisfied. That meant they'd keep pushing and prodding. Asking questions. Trying to 'understand'. She couldn't make herself understand, much less someone else.

Kelly got dressed and then pulled her phone out of her purse only to find the battery dead. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. If her things were with Conlon she was fairly certain he wouldn't have gone through them for a cell phone and charger. She got the impression that this morning was too hectic for Victor to have given it much thought either. She found the cord in her purse and plugged in to the outlet nearest the nightstand.

It was a good enough excuse not to call. Not now. Not until she had some idea of what to say. That might take weeks or months, but she couldn't imagine that would make it sound any less insane. "Sorry it's been so long, but I've been in a coma. Why? Funny story, I was nearly beaten to death in a private jail run by a mobster. Yes, really. If it hadn't been for Victor breaking in when he did they would have raped me and I probably would have died. As it is he took me to as school for mutants where he obviously hates them and they hate him, but they've been very nice to me. They had to change me into a mutant in order to save me though. Funny how things work out isn't it? By the way, you'll have to set an extra place at Thanksgiving because I'm Victor's mate now." If it wasn't all true, it would have sounded completely ridiculous.

Panic burst to the surface in a torrent of recriminations, self-blame and uncertainty. The panic didn't make sense either, but knowing that just made it worse. She should know what to say, but she didn't. She should know how to manage her own feelings, but she didn't. In that moment she wished she were comatose again. The room started to spin around her. She sat down on the edge of the bed, rested her elbows on her knees and dug her hands into her damp hair. Holding on for dear sanity.

The sound of the door opening made her cringe. She looked over and saw Victor carrying a tray. Her knees shook, but she got up to help him.

Creed didn't know what had set her off, but he was willing to bet that it had something to do with the phone on the nightstand. He handed her a plate with chicken, rice and vegetables. Her hands shook but she started to eat slowly. For a few minutes he watched her.

"They just wanna know you're alive." He said when she'd gotten most of the chicken down.

She shook her head. "They'll want to know everything."

He shrugged. "So? Don't mean you gotta tell 'em. They get pushy, you hang up or hand me the phone." He took his phone off his belt and found the number. He hit 'send' before she could protest.

"No!" She shook her head, her eyes wide.

He growled. "Take it." He grabbed her hand and put the phone in it. It made his chest ache, but he knew he had to get her out of her own head. He had no fucking idea how to comfort her half the time, the best he could hope for was hooking her up with someone who did.

Kelly hesitantly raised the phone to her ear. She didn't have to wait long before the phone was picked up.

"Hello." The guarded male voice said.

"Grandpa?" Her voice trembled.

"Kelly?" The shock registered in his voice. She heard him sit heavily. "We thought...well when we didn't hear from you for so long...where are you?"

Kelly looked at Victor and covered the microphone. "He wants to know where we are." Her voice was soft.

Victor shook his head.

"I can't tell you that, but I'm safe."

"Your grandmother's going to be so upset. She's at a luncheon at the church."

Kelly felt some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "It's alright. I think I need a little time before I talk to her."

"You're safe, are you somewhere you can get medical care?" She could hear the shock wearing off. "Someone called Conlon has been calling. He said you were badly hurt."

"The doctor who treated me is close-by." Kelly hesitated. "Did Conlon tell you how I was hurt?"

There was a long pause. "He said that Stan was behind it." He didn't need to say anymore. The pain in his voice came through loud and clear.

Tears stung her eyes. "Does Granna know?"

"I haven't been able to tell her everything he told me. She knows you were badly hurt and that you had to have surgery."

It was getting easier for Kelly to breathe. "Did he tell you about the healing factor?"

"Yes. We found out your father had mutant genes years ago. I never thought you kids might have them or that there was a way to make them work." He was relaxing more.

"I didn't either. Apparently it's experimental."

"Well thank God your doctor knew to try it."

Victor took the nearly empty plate from her. She covered the phone. "Do we need to go?"

He sat behind her, stroking her claws through her hair. "Take your time."

Creed sat in a chair in the bedroom of the guest house, _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ was open in his lap. He didn't remember owning a copy, but the frail must've found it somewhere.

They'd left the mansion after she got off the phone with her grandfather. The first day, they'd both slept, only getting up long enough to eat. He'd expected that the frail would wake up at some point the second day, but she didn't. He'd spent most of the day wandering between the fridge in the kitchen, the TV in the living room and the bedroom. Jimmy stopped by every day, probably to make sure the frail was still breathing. That ain't what he said, but Creed figured that whatever he said was bullshit.

On the third day, he'd noticed the book laying on top of her suitcase. It was all the excuse he'd needed to move a chair from the living room into the bedroom. She slept. He read and wondered what the fuck was going on with her. He'd seen every inch of her skin and there wasn't a goddamn mark on her. She'd been eating more than he'd ever seen her eat. Not by a whole hell of a lot, but he figured if that lasted she might get back the weight she'd lost in a reasonable amount of time. She said she wasn't in pain and he had no reason to think that she was lying about that. Didn't make a goddamn bit of sense.

Creed knew he'd been sitting there for hours when she whimpered and curled up. He looked over at her. She was buried under the covers, but he could see the edges of the sheet beginning to tremble. He set the book aside and watched. He heard her start to mumble. She curled up into a tight ball and whimpered again.

"Clay." The word came out as a whine followed by more mumbling.

Creed strained to make out the rest. He started repeating the name as if she was trying to remember it. "ClayClayClayClay..."

She turned over, her knees drawn tightly to her chest. He sat down next to her and started to stroke her arm. "Frail."

"Clay's lisp.."

He took her shoulders and shook her a little more vigorously. "C'mon frail."

She whimpered louder and struggled with him. He grabbed her wrists. "Frail!"

Her eyes opened, but the dream had longer claws than he did. She kept struggling, but he held her still. "C'mon frail. You're awake."

He felt the tension start to drain out of her muscles. Her eyes focused on him. He let go of her wrists and pulled her against him. She held on tight, her hands wrapped in the back of his shirt. Despite the questions that formed on his lips, he knew he had to give her time to catch her breath. He felt her hands relax first.

"Who's Clay?" He kept his voice to a soft rumble.

"Clay?"

He rearranged the sheets so that his hands could reach her bare skin. She arched against him. "You were talkin' in your sleep. You mumbled something about Clay slipped, or something like that."

She shook her head. "I don't remember." She was holding on tighter again.

He knew from her tone that she was lying. He knew where it was coming from too. If you denied the shit long enough, you could just about convince yourself that it didn't stink. Didn't make it go away though. He wrapped his hand in her hair and kept her eyes on his.

"I don't remember!" She twisted away from him and retreated to the far edge of the bed.

"I know you're lying," He advanced on her, keeping his anger in check.

The frail looked at him for a long moment, then looked away again. "Brings it all back. Talking about it...thinking about it...it's like I'm back in that van listening to them talk to each other like they were four friends on a road trip." She hugged her knees.

Creed stayed where he was. He could smell fear and anger rolling off of her. "When the drug wore off you heard 'em?"

She nodded. "They talked pretty much the whole time. Mostly they were just nasty to each other. I figured as long as they were talking they would be distracted and I could try to figure out how to get away." She turned her face away. "It was a stupid idea anyway."

"Lemme get this straight. You saw me get my head half blown off, you were drugged, you were kidnapped and you managed to shake the drug and be clear-headed enough to get one of their names?"

"Three." Her voice was small.

He looked at her curiously. "Three what?"

"Three names. I don't know if they're first names or last names or nicknames or what though."

"Well, next time make sure to ask for ID before they crack your head open." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Her back twitched with a silent laugh. She turned her head and looked at him. "Well it's not exactly a lead if it was all made up, and I didn't hear or don't remember one of the names." She moved closer to him.

He grasped her wrist and pulled her close. He gave a short laugh and pushed clawed fingers through her hair. "Frail, when you're up to your ass in alligators, you come out with new boots and a matching handbag."

A soft laugh. She relaxed against him a little more.

He waited until the fear began to fade from her scent. "So one was Clay and he has a lisp. Is it obvious or do you really have to listen for it?"

"I'm not sure. It took me a while to recognize it, but the drug was wearing off and I couldn't see who was talking either. It made sorting out the voices tough in the beginning."

Her body was moving toward relaxation, so he kept asking. "Who else?"

"King. He was the one I kicked in the very beginning."

"Kicked where?"

"The side of his leg right by his knee. I must have hit him pretty hard too, because he spent the whole time I was awake complaining about it and trying to get comfortable. The others picked on him about it and about it being his first real job."

"Anything else about him?"

She shook her head. "No. Wait, yes. He had a strong New York City accent. They all kind of did, but his was more pronounced."

He felt tension creeping into her neck and shoulders, so he rubbed them carefully. "And the other one you got a name for?"

"Luther. He didn't say much, but he had a deep voice. I'm guessing he was older or something because the others seemed to listen to him."

"The other one say anything that stood out?" He pulled the blanket up around her shoulders.

"Not that I can remember."

"Were they white, black, Asian, mutant?"

"I only saw them for a few seconds, but I think they were all white and they all looked human. They knew who you were, and that I had been with you for awhile too."

He gave a little snort. "You been around as long as I have, you develop kind of a reputation."

Her lips brushed the front of his chest. "Do you think they were in the jail where they kept me? I don't remember seeing them, but-"

"Don't know for sure, but I don't think so. From what I know about Cavallo he likes to hire specialists." His claws played lightly over her back. She moaned softly. He could feel her body relaxing into his, could see her breathing deepen.

He lay down with her until she was deeply asleep again. That was something he was going to have to address, but right now the fact that she was out gave him some privacy. He grabbed his cell phone from the dresser and went out into the kitchen. The unimaginative yellow room seemed to be built for someone about a foot and a half shorter than he was. The linoleum was cracked, the small table and chairs had at least three coats of paint that he could see. It reminded him of a potting shed with pretentions. Still, it was furthest away from the frail.

He found Conlon's number in the directory and listened to the phone ring until it went to voice mail. He ended the call and tried again. This time it was answered.

"Conlon."

"Catch you jerking off?" Creed asked.

"I was asleep. I tend to do that at three in the morning. Funny little habit of mine." The annoyance in the voice came through loud and clear.

Creed growled. "I'm up, so you're up. You said you knew the sniper who tried to take me out?"

"I knew who he was. He came sniffing around Giada a few times. Told her stories to impress her." Conlon yawned. "Why?"

Creed stared out the window into the darkness. He gave a derisive little snort. "Decent shot, dumb as shit. You know any of Cavallo's other people?"

"Not many."

"Anybody in acquisition and transport?"

"No. Why?"

"The frail got names of three of the four who took her." He heard Conlon sit up.

"How the hell did she do that?"

A little smile. "Fuck if I know. I tell you though, I'd pick that girl's instincts over the training of half the guys I've worked with."

"She's got a healing factor now, with a little training-"

Creed growled. "Shut the fuck up and don't you dare bring that up again."

"I didn't mean that she should-"

"I don't give a shit what you meant. You got something to write with?"

He heard Conlon fumbling for something. "Yeah, go." Creed relayed the names and details that the frail had given him. "What about Stan and Cavallo?"

"Right now, I want 'em both alive and well and I wanna be able to put my hands on both of them when we get out of here."

"Done. If I manage to find the four?"

Creed thought for a minute. "I think they might get accident-prone all of a sudden, and I think that their boss would like to know about it."

Kelly woke up in the dim room and looked over at the digital clock on the bedside table. It was a little after seven. She was curled up on the edge of the queen sized bed. Victor was on his back, sprawled out across the mattress. He'd thrown off the covers at some point, but he was still sound asleep. The morning light was trickling in around ugly floral print curtains. It was just enough to create bright highlights and deep shadows on his naked form.

She'd dreamed of this so many times, that she wasn't sure if this was a dream too. Her fingers itched to touch him, but if she was dreaming the image would shatter, throwing her out of the warm, safe moment back into pain or darkness or both. She lay still, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. His scent started to tease her. A mixture of his soap, the tang of sweat and something more primal that she couldn't describe. It brought a smile to her lips and reassured her that she was awake.

"Like what you see?" His voice was a soft rumble.

Kelly blushed and looked away. "I thought you were asleep." Her tone was equally soft.

The light caught the hint of one fang as he smiled. He reached over and tugged the blankets down, leaving her naked too.

"Hey!" It was an insincere protest at best, and she did nothing to put the blanket back in place.

"You're the one who's always bitchin' about fairness." The softest part of one fingertip traced over her collarbone. "Guess there's no satisfying some people."

Warm pleasure started to suffuse her from the trail of his touch. She smiled. "But you can see better than I can." She reached out to touch him.

"Uh-uh, frail. You got a good look. I want the same thing."

She lowered her hand and slid a little closer. "I didn't get to touch though."

He turned onto his side, and propped her head up on one hand. He started to trace a delicate line down between her breasts. "Yeah, well, I'm new to this whole 'fair' thing."

His finger continued down over her stomach and around her navel. Kelly's stomach trembled, her breathing came faster. His finger went lower, the tip of his claw barely touched her mound on its trip down. She didn't think about it, she just opened her legs.

He purred. "So fucking soft." His fingertip continued down, his curved claw teasing just inside her slit.

Kelly whimpered, her body tense. "Victor-"

His mouth covered hers, the very tip of his claw rested at her entrance. He stayed there, his tongue teasing hers, the razor sharp claw separating and teasing her delicate folds. Either in spite of the nervous fear coursing through her veins or because of it, Kelly could feel and intense arousal rising quickly. She moaned against his mouth, the tension draining from her muscles.

"Still wanna complain?" He nipped her lower lip.

Kelly moved slowly, opening her legs wider. "No." She captured his lower lip for the briefest moment.

"Don't move." The tip of his claw poked lightly at the swollen center of her pleasure. Sweat broke out on her skin and a tremor started in her knees. "Gonna trust me from now on?"

Kelly was so close to the edge, his words didn't register at first. Even after they did, forming an answer seemed to be too much. "Please..."

He grinned. "Please?"

"S-So close-"

"Aww, I know that." His voice was a soft rumble. "Answer me first. Gonna trust me?"

Kelly's head was spinning. She moaned. "Yes."

He smirked. "You sure?"

Her little whimper held pain and desire. "Yes, I'm sure. Please..."

He kept up delicate pressure and moved down her body, replacing his sharp claw with a soft tongue. The change in sensation was all the push she needed.

Creed looked down at the deeply sleeping frail. She was mostly on her tummy, the sheets and blankets still pooled at the foot of the bed, her legs spread. His fingertips drifted over her back and thigh. She'd cum three times, twice on his tongue, once on his cock. Didn't matter how, just mattered that she screamed his name. He didn't figure he'd ever get tired of that.

Sure it wasn't his usual thing, but he figured he had plenty of time to fuck her until she cried.

She turned and snuggled into his chest. He buried his nose in her hair and drew a long breath, taking in her scent. One small hand stroked over his chest. He held it carefully.

"What time is it?" The question was a soft mumble. Her lips brushed the front of his chest lightly.

"Almost noon."

She looked up at him, her eyes were still focusing and adjusting to being awake. "I shouldn't still be sleeping like this, should I?"

He could hear the certainty in her voice. He held her tighter. "No, frail. You gotta eat something, but after that I'm taking you over to see the ape."

He felt her nod, but she held on tighter.


	25. A Million Little Pieces

**Hi Everyone,**

**I know this has taken forever, but as usual, I like to get it right.**

**I hope you all enjoy!**

**psyche b.**

25. A Million Little Pieces

Kelly sat on the table in the chilly examining room and started to rub her arms. Victor wrapped his jacket back around her shoulders and started to pace. The longer they waited, the more agitated he got. Nothing she said would do any good, so she didn't try. She wasn't sure how long it had been when Hank finally opened the door, she knew she cringed into the large coat. If either of them saw it, they didn't mention it.

"It's about goddamn time." Victor said.

The blue doctor fixed a direct gave on Victor. "Perhaps if you had called ahead, you wouldn't have had to wait for so long. If I'm not mistaken, that was part of the agreement."

Creed shrugged and stood behind Kelly. "I agreed not to wander around here on my own. I didn't. 'Sides, I don't give a shit about your comfort or what else you got to do."

Hank didn't bother responding, instead he looked at Kelly. "You look much more rested than you did the last time I saw you." He smiled.

"Because all I've been doing is sleeping and eating. I don't think I've been awake more than five or six hours a day, and those aren't all at a stretch."

His eyebrows twitched, then he looked at Victor. "Why don't you give us a few minutes alone."

Kelly felt Victor's body tense.

She looked up at him. "You'll be close?"

"I ain't inclined to leave at all." His eyes were still fixed on Hank.

She grasped his hand and smiled up at him. His clawed thumb traced lightly over the back of her hand, then he looked up at the doctor. "Same rules as before. When she's done, you're done. You don't push for more and you sure as hell don't hurt her."

"Fine." The single word was laced with controlled anger.

Victor squeezed her hand. "Yell if you need anything, frail." He walked toward the door, but stopped to glance at her. Kelly gave a small smile before he closed the door behind himself.

Hank opened a folder. Kelly tried to read what was inside from her upside down vantage point, but found that she wasn't able to sort it out.

"I got the results of the DNA test we did the other day," he said.

"And?" She hadn't even considered it before, but now she was itching with curiosity.

He smiled a little. "It showed your healing factor functioning as I thought it would. You're still sleeping a great deal?"

"Yeah. Even when I don't want to. It seems like I have the energy to eat, but not much else."

"And you're eating well?" He was making notes as he spoke.

"Very well. Victor hasn't even been prodding me to eat more." A little smile touched her lips.

Hank looked up at her. "He usually does?"

She shrugged. "Before Victor, I got used to not eating much and not eating very well. When I get stressed I guess I revert back to that. In the beginning I was like that pretty much all the time so I guess Victor got used to saying it."

The blue doctor nodded and kept writing. "It's a bit early, but sometimes women with a healing factor are unusually sensitive to hormonal shifts. Is it possible you're pregnant?"

"No." Kelly said firmly.

He looked up at her. "If you're on the pill, your new healing factor will render it useless."

"I'm not."

He sat back and looked up at her. "Victor uses condoms?" The surprise in his voice was poorly covered.

"No, just take my word for it. I'm not pregnant." Kelly was starting to blush. She looked away. "Besides, you can just do a test anyway."

"It's still a bit early for that. I know you weren't pregnant before you woke up, so it's only been four days. I am curious about what makes you think it's so impossible."

"You're not going to leave me alone about this, are you?"

He smiled a little. "I'd be remiss if I did."

Kelly took a deep breath and looked at a spot on the far wall. "A couple of years ago I got an infection. It wouldn't have been any big deal, except that for whatever reason Stan decided that I wasn't allowed to go to a doctor because I hadn't earned it."

"How did you have to earn it?"

She pulled the coat closer around her shoulders. "I had to obey all of his rules, which was nearly impossible when I was feeling alright. When I wasn't...and I had Cody to protect." She took a long breath. "He decided I needed thirty days of good behavior. Each time I got through a day with no mistakes I earned one day toward it. If I screwed up, I lost two days. If I ended up in the negative, I had to earn my way back to zero."

"That's barbaric." The shock was obvious in his voice.

She looked at him. "That's Stan. I kept track of how long in the beginning, but after four months I lost track. When I finally did get to see someone they told me the infection had spread and caused scar tissue to form in my uterus and fallopian tubes and I'd probably never be able to have children." She looked at the wall again. "My appendectomy scar is still there, I guess all those scars are still there too."

He nodded. "The scars you had before probably won't change. Does Victor know?"

She shook her head. "He's never brought it up and I don't know how to. I have to think he's figured out something is wrong with me by now though."

He shook his head. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"There's some politically correct term I don't know? Fertility-challenged?" She couldn't help but smile a little.

So did he. "No, but if you choose to have children you'll have to be more creative about it."

"Nice way to put it."

He looked at her for a long moment. "Victor didn't hesitate to bring you here, did he?"

Kelly shook her head. "Not this time, and I doubt I would have lived if he'd hesitated the first time."

He looked down at the file, searching the pages for what to say next. He cleared his throat. "There is one other possibility. After surgery, you were healing very slowly. Even your minor, external injuries weren't healing as they should because your body was so overwhelmed. It makes sense that your internal injuries wouldn't have been healing at a normal, human rate either. It's possible that your body is treating your missing spleen as another injury to heal."

Kelly ignored the inelegant segue. She knew Victor could regenerate parts of himself. She never considered that she might be able to do the same thing. "You mean it would grow back? And work? Just like I never had surgery?"

A little nod. "I'll have to do an ultrasound to be sure. If I'm right, you're sleeping because so much of your energy is going into the regeneration."

Kelly gave a little shrug. "Alright."

He got a gown out of the cabinet. "Good. I have to get the machine. I'll have you take off your blouse and bra and change into this to protect your clothing from the gel. You can go behind that screen to change."

A nervousness clutched at Kelly. "Wait!"

He looked concerned. "What is it? An unltrasound isn't painful or at all invasive."

She smiled a little. "I know. If you go out there, Victor will wonder what's going on."

He watched her for a moment. "Whatever you say to me is confidential. I can't tell Victor or Professor Xavier or anyone else without your specific permission."

"I don't mind if you tell him about the test. If you don't it's just going to upset him."

"Do you often worry if something you do is going to upset him?"

She stared at him. "I can't be concerned about Victor's feelings?"

"There's concern and there's worry."

Kelly fixed her eyes on his. "I didn't say I was worried about him being upset with me. You implied that. I don't want him standing out there wondering what's going on and not being able to find out from anyone."

"You're certain that's all you're concerned about."

"He said tests were up to me. If he was Logan or anyone else, would you ask me all these questions?"

He took a deep breath. "If he asks, I'll tell him." He left her alone to change.

Creed stood in the lab and tried not to pace. Jimmy was standing with his back against the counter, but the other man might as well have been a hundred miles away. His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on one of the floor tiles. Creed didn't really give a shit, but standing there surrounded by his brother's brooding silence wasn't getting the ape out of that room any faster.

He turned to look at the smaller feral. He'd seen that look before. The runt had been using it in one form or another for as long as he could remember. It had never occurred to Creed that the dark, brooding look that got all the girls wet was at least partially out of his brother's control.

A couple of years ago, Creed would have said the other man was struggling with some slippery bit of memory. Whatever had happened to the runt in the interim had at least scattered most of the pieces of the past in his brother's general direction, so Creed doubted that was it. That look was different anyway. Jimmy's brows weren't as tightly knit and there was no muscle twitching in his jaw. None of the outward signs of internal struggle between repression and recovery.

He supposed the old man was pissed off at Jimmy. For all the hot air about acceptance and choice, the old bastard fucking hated it when people stepped out of line. The runt had all but pissed on that line when he'd taken Creed's side. Still, a sneering old man wasn't enough to put Jimmy into this state. That didn't leave a whole hell of a lot.

The clock ticked away a couple more interminable minutes. A grin spread slowly across Creed's face, his eyes still fixed on his brother.

Jimmy was thinking about the girl. Had to be. Only question was, had he done more than think. Not that he really gave a shit, but it gave him something to do besides watch the clock.

"You gonna stand there and stare at me all day or are you going gonna ask?" Jimmy asked finally. He didn't turn his head.

"Ask?" Creed glanced away.

"Yeah." There was a little growl in Jimmy's voice. "You been starin' at me since you got back out here."

Creed shrugged. "What makes you think I give a shit in the first place?"

Jimmy fixed him with a glare. "I think if I asked you, you'd say that you're bored. Whether you want to admit it or not you're worried about Kelly."

Creed felt his jaw tense. "That's a theory."

Jimmy smirked. "Knew you wouldn't admit it."

Creed forced a casual shrug. "She's mine and I ain't ready to let her go." He looked at Jimmy again. "You were thinking about yours."

The smaller mutant looked away. "She ain't mine."

"Only 'cause you haven't told her so."

"I can't just tell her-"

Creed groaned. "That part of being housebroken? Making everything ten times more complicated than it already is?"

"S'pose that's what you did."

A little smile. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Jimmy looked over at Creed, but before he could speak the ape came out of the examining room. Creed took a step forward, but the blue doctor disappeared into another room.

Creed could feel a growl rising in his chest. "What the fuck is he doing? She's in there alone."

"If there was anything wrong with her, he wouldn't have been moving so slow."

"He still left her alone."

The ape came out a few minutes later, only this time he was pushing some sort of machine on a cart. That was all Creed needed. He was across the room and in the ape's path in a few long strides. "What the fuck is that?"

"An ultrasound machine. Kelly agreed to-"

"Well I figured she'd agreed to it. What's it for? Your own general curiosity?" Creed could feel a nervous anger clawing at the inside of his ribcage.

"I'll tell you because she wants me to. Because Kelly was healing so slowly, I don't believe the internal surgical injuries were healing. When her healing factor activated, it began working on all of her injuries, but it directed the majority of its energy to her most serious injuries. We could see it working on the external ones, but I think it was treating her missing spleen as something else that needed to be repaired."

It was suddenly easier to draw breath. "She's regenerating it?"

The ape nodded. "That's my theory at this point, yes."

"That wouldn't have been the first thing it did? A piece of her was missing."

Some of the tension went out of the blue doctor's shoulders. "Yes and no. A healing factor attacks the most critical injuries first. Yours is so fast you probably don't notice, but hers began with a whole host of injuries deal with. It would have worked on the injury to her brain and her lungs first because those were the most life-threatening. With a bit of care, a person can live a perfectly normal life without a spleen. It would have been pushed down the list, so to speak."

Creed studied the ape. He'd never considered the mechanism of how his healing factor worked, he just knew that it did. He glanced down at the machine. "This'll tell you one way or another?"

A little nod. "It should."

His eyes narrowed. "And if it doesn't?"

"I'll recommend a different test and she'll decide whether or not she wants it. If she agrees and if that shows nothing, then I'll look in another direction. Frankly, I think this is the most likely scenario at this point."

Creed put his hand on the door.

"Wait!"

Creed glanced over his shoulder. "Why? There somethin' you ain't tellin' me?"

"No, but Kelly's changing."

Creed smirked. "I fucked her a couple hours before we got here. I don't think she'll mind." He didn't wait for a response, he just walked in. "Only me, frail."

"Behind here." She waved from behind a screen.

The ape looked shocked. Jimmy turned away to hide a little smile. Creed grinned at both of them, then closed the door behind himself.

Kelly lay on the examination table with a towel tucked into the waistband of her jeans and her abdomen bare and pretended to ignore the tension between Victor and Hank. The wary, dangerous look Victor had fixed on the doctor was in direct conflict with the tender way he held her hand. Kelly stroked the back of his fingers as the silence grew.

"You gonna sit there and stare all goddamn day?" Victor squeezed her hand lightly.

She glanced at Hank. His eyes were on their clasped hands. She got the distinct impression that seeing anyone touch Victor, or want to be touched by him, was still an unusual event that drew attention.

He took a bottle of gel off the cart and looked at Kelly. "This shouldn't take very long. You've been eating normally, so I won't be able to get as clear a picture, but I will be able to tell if it's there or not. I'm afraid this'll be cold." He squeezed the gel onto the left side of Kelly's stomach by the bottom of her ribcage.

Kelly gasped and gripped Victor's hand tighter to suppress a shiver.

"Sorry." Hank said. He adjusted his glasses. "You'll feel a bit of pressure, but you shouldn't have any discomfort at all. If you do, tell me and we'll stop."

Kelly nodded. He pressed the probe against her stomach and moved it through the gel. His eyes were on the grainy image on the monitor.

"Spleen's under her ribs. How the fuck you gonna see it with that?" Victor's eyes were on the grainy image too.

Hank's hand paused and he looked at the other man curiously.

Victor smirked. "What? You think I could do what I do and not know where shit is?"

Kelly couldn't resist a little smile.

"Forgive me. I forgot for a moment that I was in the presence of an expert." He moved the probe again and paused. "Kelly, take a deep breath and hold it."

She drew in a deep breath and held it while he moved the pressed the probe against her skin a little more firmly.

After a moment, the corners of his lips twitched into a smile. "Let it out, then when you're ready take another and hold it."

Kelly took another deep breath. She could see Victor squinting at the screen, trying to discern anything from the grainy, black and white image.

"Alright, all finished." He took the probe away from her stomach and covered the gel with a towel. The hint of a smile had grown. "Your spleen is regenerating, so the need to sleep as much as you have been is perfectly normal."

"How much longer is it going to take?" Kelly pulled the gown down and sat up with the towel clutched against her side.

"I can't be certain. I'd say the regeneration is about ninety percent complete, but that's just going by the average size of a human spleen. The last time I actually saw yours it was in pretty bad shape." He smiled a little. "If you're still spending an unusual amount of time sleeping after two days, come back and I'll look a little further. I don't think it'll take that long though."

Kelly smiled a little and leaned closer to Victor. "Thank you. I feel a little silly for being so worried now."

"I don't." Victor's arm tightened around her.

Hank's eyebrows rose. "For once, we agree on something. I'm not certain exactly how your healing factor will react, how could you be?" He took off his gloves and picked up a clip board. "If you need another towel, just take one from the bottom of the cart. Let me know how you're doing in a couple of days." He smiled and left them alone in the room.

Creed lay with the frail snuggled against his chest. By the time they'd gotten back to the guest house it was time for dinner. She'd eaten and he'd watched her fight sleep for over an hour. Eventually she'd nodded off on the small sofa. The fucking thing was too small, even for her to get comfortable on. He'd picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. She woke up enough to undress, and as soon as she did she curled up close. Damn place was so drafty she was probably freezing. Wasn't like he could just get up and leave her after that.

Wasn't like he wanted to.

_Kelly woke up slowly in a dim room. For a moment, panic started to rise, but then she realized that the bed under her was wide and soft. When she rolled over, there was a warm place in the mattress. She smiled. Victor must have just gotten up, his scent still lingered on the pillows. She arched her back, reveling in the sensation of being close to those ephemeral traces of him. For awhile, that was all she needed._

_As time passed, she started to become aware of where she was. The room was too small to be the bedroom in Maine, too cozy to be the loft in Chicago and too comfortable to be the guest house at the mansion. She squinted into the darkness until she recognized a large landscape that hung across from the bed. That painting was in the cabin, the place Victor had brought her to recover after he first found her. _

_She relaxed again, hoping for sleep but it didn't come. Instead, she heard sounds filtering through the mostly closed door. Victor moving around in the living room, the sound of wood being arranged in the fireplace. The bed was warm, but her comfort in it was replaced with an uncomfortable restlessness. She pulled his discarded t-shirt over her head and walked out toward the living room._

_The hall was dark, but she could see the glow of the fire ahead of her and Victor silhouetted in profile as he squatted in front of it. She smiled and moved closer._

_He turned to face her, his hand held out to her, the firelight highlighting the deep divot on the side of his head where parts of his skull and brain were missing. Kelly stepped back and closed her eyes, trying to push the horrific image away. When she opened them again, he was on his feet moving toward her, a river of blood staining his face and the side of his body. When she looked down at herself, she was covered in bright red blood and gelatinous flecks of brain._

_Her skin felt stiff when she opened her mouth and started screaming._

"FRAIL!"

Kelly woke with her heart racing. The coppery taste of blood was still in her mouth, the tight feeling of a scream still in her throat. Victor's claws were biting into her shoulders as he hovered over her, but the concern in his eyes was masked by the specter of the dream. In her view, the blood and bone and brain still clung to both of them. Her stomach turned over and she twisted out of his grip.

She was out of bed and down the hall in a few long strides, the stink of terror surrounding her in a thick miasma, making it hard for him to breathe. The door to the small bathroom slammed and he heard her wretch. He hesitated with his hand on the knob. He wasn't exactly a comforting presence. What the fuck would he say once he got in there?

He heard her wretch again.

He decided he didn't give a shit. He'd say whatever came out and if she was pissed off at him, the rest would seem less important. He opened the door. She was crouched in front of the light blue toilet, her upper body braced on the seat, her hair falling in a sweaty curtain to hide her face. There was one bright red, raised scratch on her shoulder, and another deeper cut. Blood was starting to trickle down her arm. She started to tremble. In a way, she looked every bit as vulnerable and broken as she had in the bunker. He got peroxide and several gauze pads out of her make-up bag.

She flinched away from him when he pressed the gauze over the deepest wound on her shoulder. "It'll heal." Her voice was raspy. She flushed the toilet and sat on the floor, her knees drawn up, her back to him.

"I know. Doesn't mean you gotta bleed all over the damn place." He held the cottony square over the wound again. This time, she didn't move away. "Dream?" Pretty damn obvious that it was, but it didn't look like she was going to say anything on her own. He held his hand over her shoulder, putting pressure on the cut.

She nodded once.

"Same as before?"

Slight shake of her head.

"Gonna make me guess?" He was holding his anger in check. If she heard it in his voice, she'd be certain that it was directed at her somehow. She didn't need that on top of all the other shit she was going through.

Another little head shake. "Can't. Not just now." Her voice sounded flat and strange.

He recognized it as the sound of withdrawal. He kissed the back of her head, her sweat was still heavy with her fear and a fresher scent, anger. That almost made him smile. He took the gauze from her shoulder. The wound wasn't gone, but it wasn't bleeding anymore. The other scratches were nearly invisible now.

"Need a shower." The soft, alien voice again.

"Come back to bed after." He got up and headed back to the bedroom. He knew he wouldn't get back to sleep. The scent of her fear alone was enough to keep him awake.

Kelly stood under the weak shower and tried to push away the horrific images and sensations. Maybe eventually she'd be successful in that, but she doubted that she'd ever be able to forget the guilt.

It was all her fault.

If it hadn't been for her, Victor wouldn't have been in the middle of nowhere and he wouldn't have gotten shot. It made her chest hurt every time she thought about it, and it stirred an all-consuming fiery anger that would not be suppressed. Anger at Stan for trading her and Cody to cover up for his own misdeeds. Anger at Cavallo for being the kind of sick bastard who would take such an offer and revel in it. Anger at herself for all of it and for not even taking a moment to grieve when she thought Victor was gone.

If Victor had anything to say about it, Stan and Cavallo would have to answer for what they did. What could she do about the rest? She couldn't turn back the clock. She couldn't make it up to him. She couldn't even figure out how to apologize. Even if she could, that wouldn't fix anything anyway. They might be safe here, but as soon as they stepped outside the gates of the mansion, they were still wearing targets and it was all her fault. There was no resolution and that alone made her even angrier.

The water started to get cold. Kelly stepped out reluctantly and dried herself off. The thought of going back to bed was more than she could manage at that moment. She wrapped one of Victor's flannel shirts around herself and went out into the tiny living room. The sofa was uncomfortable, but at least it was a place to be alone with her thoughts for a few minutes.

Creed listened to the water run in the sink. He heard her brush her teeth. He heard her turn on the shower and get in. How long she stood under the weak spray he couldn't say, but he figured it was probably getting cold by the time she got out. She should have been in the bedroom a few minutes later, instead he heard her pause in the hall and head down toward the living room.

He fucking hated it when she got like this. Sure it was annoying as hell, but more than that he didn't have the first idea of how to bring her out of it. He'd always know what to do. Some of the time it was wrong, but it always produced a change. A result that he could work with in one way or another and to hell with the consequences. Couldn't do that now. The consequences mattered too much.

Fucking frail, made his life complicated from the time he woke up in the morning until he went to bed at night and beyond. Course the idea of going back to an uncomplicated life was almost enough to make him puke. He pulled on a pair of shorts and went out to find her. He'd almost gotten used to making shit up as he went along.

As soon as he opened the door he could see her sitting on the sofa. Her back was to him, but he could tell that she was hugging her knees. He made sure she could hear him coming. No need to scare the shit out of her. She turned her head, but Creed couldn't be certain whether she saw him or not.

Whether consciously or unconsciously, she'd left him room enough to sit behind her, so he did.

"Thought you were coming back to bed."

"I just...I didn't think I could sleep yet and I didn't want to keep you up." Her voice didn't have that same flat emptiness that had been there in the bathroom, but it was still wasn't right in a way he couldn't define. As if she still wasn't quite there.

"I'm up anyway."

She glanced at him, and then looked away again. "I'm sorry." There was more pain in the two words than there should have been.

Nervousness tinged her scent. He moved closer. She moved back, but didn't quite touch him. He ran clawed fingers through her damp hair. She started to relax. "What're you beatin' yourself up for?" He made sure to keep his voice soft.

"I'm not-"

"I can practically smell it on you, frail."

She took a deep breath. "I thought you were dead."

He could tell from the tone of her voice that the statement was supposed to explain everything, but it didn't make a bit of sense to him. "I'm not."

"But I didn't know that. Your blood hit my face, I saw you hit the ground." She started to shiver. He pulled her closer, but didn't force her to face him.

"What could you have done? You were drugged-"

"But I woke up in a cell and they left me alone for awhile." She was leaning against him, but her body was tense.

"So? You sure as hell couldn't have done anything when you were locked up." The more she talked the less sense she made. Seeing the state she was in though, it wasn't just idle conversation.

"But I just..." She took trembling breath and went silent again.

He caught the scent of her tears, and he could feel her fighting them. "Just what?"

She hugged her knees tighter. "I just washed the blood off." She choked on a sob. "I washed the blood off and tried to figure a way to get out of there."

He gripped her wrist and held her tighter. She struggled but he wouldn't let her go. Now at least all the upset made sense in a way. Seeing him shot was bad enough. Seeing him shot and struggling with guilt, he was surprised she hadn't fallen apart before this. Course he knew what that felt like too.

Fucking frail. If he lived with her long enough, he'd end up telling her all of his secrets.

She was giving up the struggle, with him and the tears she was fighting. Finally, she went limp against him. He relaxed his grip on her wrist and she turned slightly to snuggle against his shoulder. He rested his cheek against the top of her head. "Told you about Fort Sumter."

He felt her nod.

"Didn't tell you Jimmy was there too."

She stayed silent, but she was curious. He could smell it.

"Jimmy didn't like the idea, but I convinced him."

"Why?" Her voice was small.

"Jimmy can pass for human. I can't. Back then, if you couldn't pass you ended up in a fucking freak show and that's if you were lucky. Jimmy just wanted to be normal. He'd manage to get work someplace and they'd find out I was his brother and we'd both be on the move again. By the time it was all brewing we were in the States anyway. They were taking mutants and I figured it was a shot at Jimmy's normal and I was fighting all the damn time anyway. Might as well get paid for it."

He felt her relax against him a little more.

Some of the tension in his muscles had eased, like the more he talked, the easier it got. "Didn't turn out the way I figured it would. Sure they took mutants, but we were separated from everyone else. Got paid less, lived closest to the latrines, did all the shit work, got the worst of the food, the worst of the punishment and we were always at the front of the line when the fighting started. Me and Jimmy made the best of it, had some narrow misses, some minor shit." He smirked. "Gave the normals a hell of a show when some major injury healed in a few minutes."

A little smile flickered across her face too.

"Couldn't last though. About three months in, we were right in the middle of it. I don't even know how the fuck it all happened. I heard men screaming and smelled blood and hate and terror and I looked over and Jimmy wasn't next to me anymore." His chest got tight. The sights and smells came back unbidden. His arm tightened around her for just a moment, holding tight to the present. "'F it'd been something minor Jimmy would have found me again after. When he didn't, I went searching through bodies."

The ground had been soggy with blood and the stink of shit and death hung in a heavy cloud over the field. Droning flies had begun to gather, as had the filthy men who made their living from robbing the dead. He remembered how the dead flesh felt in his hands. Remembered the groaning sound one body made as it slid over another. He'd worked so hard to forget the faces and now they loomed before him again with their staring eyes and expressions of shock and pain. He hadn't realized how far away he'd gone until he felt the frail's hand stroking his chest.

"I'm sorry for bringing it all back." Her voice was soft.

He gripped her hand. "Part of that infection I told you about before. Anyway, I found him, all broken to hell. He was healing, but nothing was in the right place. I had to rebreak his leg so they'd heal normal." He didn't tell her that for nearly two days they'd lived in a circle of corpses because their unit couldn't spare a stretcher and Jimmy couldn't be moved any other way at first. "Know what I did after?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Got him back to camp, did all the shit I usually did. 'F you're gonna survive, you got to. Doesn't make you disloyal." He looked down at her.

She was looking away. "I feel like I'm always an inch away from falling apart."

He shrugged. "I'll put you back together if you do." The words sounded more confident about that than he felt.

She looked up at him, a little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I believe you could."

He grinned. "Fucking right I could." His hand slipped between the buttons of the shirt, stroking the side of her stomach. His lips found hers and lingered there for a long moment, until all the residual tension was gone. "Why d'you always wear my clothes when you get upset?"

She laughed. "Because your clothes always seem warmer than mine."

He moved to kiss her again, harder this time, when something hit the outer wall of the house with a loud thump.

She jumped, but managed to bite back a scream.

His muscles were tense. "Get dressed." He got up and headed for the door.

Fear was rolling off of her in waves. "No! You can't go out there. What if-"

"Cavallo's goons ain't got a hope in hell of sneaking onto this property, and even if they did, they wouldn't be stupid enough to make all that noise. Now go!" He made sure she heard the dangerous growl under his words. She got up and trotted away, he headed for the door.

Kelly's heart was pounding when she locked herself in the tiny bathroom. Her thoughts raced, her stomach turned again, only this time it was empty. She paced the two steps between door and tub in quick strides, her arms crossed over her stomach.

There was nothing but silence from the exterior of the house. Victor was probably right, it was probably just an animal or wind or something innocent. In the jumble of her thoughts those perfectly logical ideas almost got lost. She forced herself to hold on to them, to repeat them to herself like a mantra. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the door open again.

"Frail!" Victor called. "Bring me my phone."

It was alright. It must have been, otherwise he wouldn't have told her to come out. She pulled on a pair of sweats and found his phone on the dresser in the bedroom. He was standing in the kitchen holding a terrified-looking boy by the collar of his coat. Victor was wet. The boy was covered in snow and shivering. Victor pushed the boy into one of the chairs and took the phone from her.

"Who-"

"A nosy fucking brat, that's who." He manipulated the buttons on the phone until he found what he wanted. He glared at the sandy-haired boy who was doing his best to vanish into his clothes. "A fucking brat who's lucky I been practicing my self-control."

Kelly had no idea what to say. She stared at the boy and he stared at her.

He growled and jabbed at buttons again. The nervous silence grew in small room until the phone was answered. "Jimmy, get your ass over here."


	26. Circle of Trust

_iI know this has taken a LONG time...but I hope you enjoy the result._

_psyche b/i_

26. Circle of Trust

Kelly lay mostly on top of Victor. His hands were drifting over her body, sometimes tracing designs with the tips of his claws, sometimes simply exploring her curves with his fingertips.

They'd tried going back to bed after Jimmy had come and collected their unexpected visitor, but the scent of Kelly's fear from her earlier nightmare was still too thick in the bedroom for Victor to sleep. Kelly couldn't get comfortable anyway. He'd stripped the blankets off the bed and made a spot on the living room floor for the two of them. After they'd settled, a comfortable silence grew between them and stayed.

Kelly watched as light crept in slowly, despite the fact that the curtains were all closed. It was gray and ephemeral at first, but it grew brighter in puddles under the widows. Kelly shifted to avoid an errant beam of sunlight. His arm tightened around her for a moment.

"You sleep?" His voice was a soft rumble.

"No." Her own voice was as soft as his.

"Still upset?" His fingers moved through her hair.

"No. Just not sleepy."

He shifted so that he could look at her. A little grin quirked the corner of his mouth. "Son of a bitch, the ape was right."

She smiled a little. "You thought he wasn't?"

"Thought he lied."

There was nothing she could say. If she were honest with herself, she didn't fully trust anyone she'd met at the school, not yet anyway. She brushed her lips over his shoulder lightly, because she could reach it without moving more than her head. "Hungry?"

"Eh." His lips found hers, toying between tender teasing and the sharpness of a fang tip.

Kelly sighed and pressed closer. She was beginning to get lost in it when the sound of a phone shattered the moment. She could feel tension race through his body.

"I'll-"

He growled and dug his claws into her bottom. The meaning was clear. Kelly stayed put and watched him get up.

"This better be goddamn good." He leaned against the kitchen door frame, his eyes were still on her. For a long moment he was silent.

"Oh for fuck's sake Jimmy, you know I didn't lay a hand on that kid and I'm ain't gonna go and defend myself to an old man."

He went silent, listening to whatever was being said on the other end of the line, his jaw was tense, his arms were crossed. One clawed finger tapped his bicep. Kelly reached for his shirt and put it on again. He drew his eyebrows together and looked at her. Kelly pointed toward the bathroom. He nodded. She wasn't sure if it was understanding or permission. Either way, it didn't much matter. She got up and trotted down the hall.

Kelly could hear him talking through the bathroom door, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. The tone of disdain in his voice was clear though. If he wanted her to know more, he would tell her when she got back out there. She washed up before going back out again.

He ended the call and tossed the phone back onto the counter. "The old man wants to talk about that kid who was here this morning."

She looked at him curiously. "What's there to talk about?"

"Hell if I know. Figured if you wanted to, we'd go. If not, we won't."

Kelly shrugged with one shoulder and tried not to shiver in the chilly house. "I'd like to see Cassie. I've been texting with her a little, but I haven't seen her since that first day."

"So we'll go." He grasped her arm. "C'mon, I'm freezing my fucking balls off."

She smiled a little. "Maybe you shouldn't walk around naked."

He grinned down at her. "Oh yeah? You're my mate, it's up to you to warm me up."

She looked down at him, half-way hard already. In spite of herself, a blush colored her cheeks. "I guess I could knit something. Maybe a modified sock."

His eyebrows shot up and then they drew together. A growl rumbled from his chest, his hand tightened around her arm. "Knit something?" He gave her a shove toward the sofa. She stumbled, but managed to keep her footing. A rush of nervousness chased down Kelly's spine. Her eyes flickered to his face. His eyes were filled with danger, but a little smile teased the corners of his lips for just a moment. Heat pooled in her lower belly.

"Think you need a lesson, little girl." He pushed her again, harder this time.

Kelly stumbled into the sofa this time. "Victor-"

"Still tryin' to tell me what to do?" He gripped her arm again and turned her, forcing her to kneel on the seat.

She looked over her shoulder. "No, I just-"

"You what? You figured I'd gone soft and you could get away with anything?" He grasped her collar and pulled the shirt from her back, his claws trailing burning lines from her left shoulder to her right hip. If she'd tried to hold onto it, he'd have twisted her arm from its socket.

She couldn't bite back a sharp whimper. Tears came to her eyes. "That's not what I meant." The needy heat grew. Kelly didn't try to understand it, she shifted her knees apart.

A clawed hand dug into her hair, twisting hard enough to bring a sharp cry to her lips. Her back arched downward, her fingers dug into the back of the sofa. He was behind her, over her, pressing against her entrance. Her fingers dug into the couch cushions until her knuckles went white. The dangerous growl still vibrated through his chest, but his thumb stroked over the back of her neck gently.

It was a fleeting gesture. One that she could easily have thought of as accidental, had she been less familiar with all of his subtleties. The animal was at the surface, but the man was holding it mostly in check. She relaxed under him, even though his hand took up a bruising grip on her shoulder. The way he entered her bordered on brutal, but it filled a hungry need in her. Kelly tilted her hips and fell into the the cascade of physical and emotional sensations.

Creed glanced down at the frail. Little tremors chased through her body. She pressed closer against him, as if warding off a chill.

He'd moved them both back down to the floor when her body had threatened collapse under him. He knew why she was weak. She'd cum at least twice, maybe three times. He couldn't really tell, he'd been to engrossed in fucking her, in letting her pleasure and submission fuel the feral climax that set his senses on fire.

If he lived another five hundred years he'd never understand her. Sure, she reminded him of the human side of his nature and allowed him to revel in it, but she didn't flinch from the animal. How she knew whether he wanted fight and force or teasing gentleness was beyond him. When it came right down to it, he didn't give a shit about the mechanism. It was enough that when he reached for her, she reached back.

His fingertips traced over the long highway of scratches he'd left over her back. In most places he'd managed to keep from cutting her too deeply. Even though he felt only raised trails and narrow scabs, she still flinched from time to time, pressing closer to him. The scent of fresh blood was still lingering in the air too. When he got to her shoulder blade, she whimpered and flinched away.

"Lemme see." His voice was a soft growl next to her ear.

She moved reluctantly onto her stomach. Blood welled up in the four side-by-side cuts. He moved his tongue over them carefully. She whimpered and he felt tension move through her body. He held her still.

"Victor-"

"I know, you'll heal. Just shut up and hold still." He stroked the outside of her hip.

She caught his hand and gave a soft laugh. "I was going to say that you're laying on my arm."

He pinched the back of her thigh and swept his tongue over the wounds slowly. "What the fuck are you doing with your arm in my way anyway?"

She looked over her shoulder, a smile playing over her lips. "Guess I wasn't thinking."

He couldn't help but smile back. "Fucking right." He shifted long enough for her to pull her arm away. "What do you want for dinner?" He pushed her head back down to the floor and licked the slowly oozing wounds again.

Her body shook with a short laugh. "That's what you're thinking about right now?"

"What d'you want me to think about? Ponies and glittery rainbows and shit like that?"

A little giggle was cut short by a whimper when he hit a tender spot. "I was thinking more along the lines of breakfast. Am I going to have any skin left when you're done?" She lifted her head and tried to look over her shoulder again.

He smirked. "If you're good." He pushed her head back down. "'Sides, I can't help it if I like how you taste. Now, dinner. What do you want?"

"We have-"

"Not what I asked you."

She was silent for a long moment. He figured he'd let her ask. When she spoke, the words came out slowly, as if the simple act of speaking them was painful to her. "We can't go anywhere."

"We haven't got to. Conlon's out there and I know Jimmy'll let him in if I persuade him right." The wounds stopped bleeding. He let his fingertips trail down from the nape of her neck drawing haphazard patterns over her spine and down to her tailbone.

Her back arched and a shiver coursed through her. "He's not a messenger."

"He's whatever the fuck I say he is. He's damn lucky he's still breathing at all."

She turned over. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. "It wasn't your fault and it wasn't his fault either. Besides, I'm sure you've been keeping him busy."

His eyes narrowed. He struggled to control the growl that rose in his chest. "Frail-"

She curled closer. "I know he keeps Cody safe. If there's more, I'm not asking what it is."

He pulled her closer. "Too fucking smart for your own good." He waited until she relaxed against him. "Pizza, seafood, Chinese, or somethin' else?"

Her fingers traced his stomach, over the outside of his hip and then back up again. It was all he could do not to moan. He had less control over the rush of blood to his cock. "Well?"

She gave a teasing little smile. "I'm thinking." One finger circled his navel.

The whisper of a touch tested the limits of his control. He couldn't control the low growl that rumbled through his chest. "You're fucking teasing me."

"No, just thinking. Seafood." The little smirk that touched her lips didn't escape him.

"Shoulda known." One hand drifted over her hip. Hungry tension built again, but this time he needed to touch her as much as he needed to fuck her. He pushed her onto her back. "Gonna have to live on the coast just to keep you in shrimp."

She arched up, begging for his touch without saying a word. "All the time?"

"Don't know about that." His claws found one nipple and pinched just hard enough to make her squirm. He couldn't help but grin as he watched her. "Sure as hell don't wanna move around as much as we have been." He tugged her nipple.

She whimpered. A grin spread over his face as he watched goosebumps ripple outward from that tense little peak.

It took some time to find her voice. "I thought you liked that, moving so much."

He grinned at her reaction. "Used to. Sick of trying to remember where I put you when I want to fuck you." His mouth found hers. She moaned under him, her fingers moving over his chest, pulling him closer. It pushed him over the edge. Need coursed through him like a slow moving electric shock that originated from and returned to his groin.

She shifted under him, spreading her legs even though he could tell she was still sore. He wrapped one hand in her hair and kissed her again. He'd meant for it to be tender, reassuring, but his body couldn't manage that. She pulled him closer anyway. He growled against her mouth and accepted her invitation.

Kelly lay on her side with her knees drawn up. Chills coursed through her body from time to time, but she didn't have the energy to search for a blanket. Victor moved behind her, one heavy arm settled over her. The cold abated, but the ache in her lower half was still very much present. Even with her new healing factor, she was certain it would linger for awhile longer. In a strange way, it made the moment more perfect.

A little smile touched her lips.

"Somethin' funny?" His voice was a soft rumble.

She gripped his hand. "No, just comfortable."

He covered her hand with his. "Smell bruised."

A little shrug. "So? Doesn't stop me from being content."

His lips found the side of her head. He was silent again but she could feel tension starting to creep in to his body. Not the kind of tension that came before arousal. That started in his stomach and radiated downward. This tension started in his chest and telegraphed through his arm.

She stroked his thumb, because it was the only thing she could reach without moving. "What?"

"The old man offered to let you finish high school here." The words hung there.

A thousand things chased through Kelly's head, but all of them came back to a single fact. "If you leave me here, right?"

"Yeah."

She shook her head. "I want to finish, but I'm not staying here without you."

"Never said you wanted to finish." Surprise registered in his voice.

A little nod. "I would have been done last year if it weren't for Stan."

He stroked her stomach. "Never said anything about it."

She relaxed back against him. "I figured I would once things calmed down and we got somewhere we could stay for a little while."

There was a little smile in his voice. "S'pose you wanna go to college, too."

She couldn't resist a smile herself. "I hadn't really thought about that."

"Think about it." He nipped the side of her neck. "After breakfast."

Kelly sat across from the boy in Professor Xaviar's office. He still looked like he wanted to hide in his clothes. She attributed that to the fact that Victor was standing behind her, probably wearing a dangerous glare.

"Robert, you have something to say." The professor prompted.

The boy dug a crinkled sheet of notebook paper out of his pocket. Kelly could tell that it had been folded and unfolded many times in the past few hours. His head was down, his eyes focused on the page. "I-" His voice cracked. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I spied on you. I know it was wrong and that it upset you. I promise I won't do it again. Please accept my apology." The words came out in a monotone rush.

Kelly glanced up at Victor. His arms were crossed over his chest, the same cold glare still in his eyes. She looked back at the boy. He was starting to squirm in the chair.

"Why?" The word was out before she could think about it.

The boy looked to the professor uncertainly.

"No." Kelly's voice was firm. "I didn't ask him, I asked you."

He shrugged. "It was just a dumb idea." His eyes were on the edge of the professor's desk.

Kelly recognized the deflection. "Then why can't you look me in the eye when you say it?" Her voice held no accusation, just curiosity.

He took a deep breath and squirmed in the chair. He glanced at her, then at Victor and then back at the professor's desk.

"Do you know why I'm here?" Kelly asked.

He shook his head.

The professor started. "Kelly, you don't have to-"

She looked at him. "It's not a secret. At least, I don't think it should be." She looked back at Robert. "I was kidnapped and badly hurt. Victor brought me here because I wouldn't have made it to a hospital."

He looked at her with curiosity in his eyes. "I thought you were just a mutant."

She smiled a little. "I suppose I don't know what I am now, except lucky." Victor put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb stroked the back of her neck.

"Sounds stupid." He looked down at his shoes.

"Hell, half of what most people do in a day is stupid shit." Victor said. The professor shot him a warning glance, but if he noticed it, he ignored it.

Robert sat up a little straighter, but he still didn't meet anyone's eyes. "I wanted to see Sabertooth."

Kelly had heard the name from Müller, but she'd done her best to push it out of her mind. "What?"

"You haven't told her?" The professor tried to look surprised, but the emotion never reached his eyes.

Kelly met his gaze. "It doesn't matter who told me." She looked at the boy again. "What did you mean?"

"My friend Tony's little brother was in here a few days ago and he said Sabertooth came in. Everybody said he was a liar, but he swore he was telling the truth. Tony and I figured that if he was here, he was probably in the guest house because that's off limits." He shrugged a little. "Guys starting daring each other to go out there."

"And you did." Kelly finished.

He nodded.

"You got balls, I'll give you that." Victor said.

Kelly tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle. The professor shot Victor a withering look.

"Was that the only time?" Kelly asked.

He nodded. "And I really am sorry. I saw you guys starting to...to kiss and stuff," A dark blush stained his cheeks. "I knew I shouldn't be watching so I went to leave, but I tripped and stumbled into the side of the house."

"You, or anybody else ever do it again, I ain't gonna be so nice." Victor said. There was a well-concealed little growl at the end of the statement. Kelly reached up and gripped his hand.

"I think that'll be all." The professor said. He looked at Robert. "You may return to class."

The boy got up and walked toward the door. He didn't slouch as much as he had before. As Robert was leaving, Logan came in.

As soon as the door was closed, Creed looked at the old man. "That the kind of show you expected?"

"Show? I'm not certain I know what you mean."

It was bullshit. Everybody knew it. "Yeah, whatever." He walked toward the door. The frail got up and followed uncertainly. Seeing her so hesitant made his chest hurt. He took her hand and ignored the eyes on them. "You sure you want to stay?" His voice was softer.

She gave a little smile. "I've been under your feet since I woke up. Besides, it's only for a few hours."

He caught the note of uncertainty in her voice, but ignored it. He bumped his forehead against hers. She pushed back, her eyes closed. "Got your phone?"

"Of course."

"Good. You need me, call." He glanced over her shoulder at the old man. "For anything."

She nodded. "I'll be fine." He gripped her hand and forced himself to walk away. "C'mon Jimmy, wouldn't wanna let me get too far ahead of you. I might have an impure thought between here and the door."

Kelly turned back to the professor. He was studying her, a slight smile on his face.

"You're looking much better than the last time I saw you."

She managed a little smile. "Thanks."

"Classes don't let out for nearly an hour. Would you like to sit?"

Kelly sat in the same chair she'd been in before. She felt much smaller without Victor standing behind her. She wasn't sure what to say, but she didn't want to sit in silence. "Victor told me about your offer, to let me finish my high school here."

"He told you?" There was a note of surprise in his voice, this time it flashed through his eyes as well.

"Of course he did. You didn't think he would?" She smiled a little.

"I'll admit, I wasn't certain. Have you had a chance to think about it?" His eyes sharpened as he asked. Something about it gave him a hungry look. Not as predatory as Stan when he got that look, but she figured the professor had worked at refining it more than Stan had.

Her smile never wavered. "I appreciate your generosity, but I'm very accustomed to independent study. I don't think I'd be comfortable in a classroom."

The corner of his lip twitched into what might have been a smile, or might have been concealed anger. "Is that your only concern?"

"You know it isn't. Would you like to hear me say it?"

He looked down at his desk and then up at her again. "I understand that you're concerned for your safety and you have every right to be, but others can provide you with that safety."

"You, you mean."

A little smile this time. "It's not such a terrible place and it isn't forever. Hardly any time at all in the context of your lifetime."

She fought the urge to answer quickly. "I never said it was a terrible place. If things were different I'm sure that I would jump at the chance. It's not just about safety though, it's about where I belong."

"Because he's told you that you're a possession of his."

She shook her head. "Because I can't imagine being anything other than his. If that sounds like possession to you, then I suppose that's as good a label as any. Frankly, I'm sick of explaining and defending."

A warm smile. "That isn't what I was asking for."

She looked at him flatly. "Then you'd be the first one."

"Perhaps if you understood our position more fully-"

She rolled her eyes. "God, not another list." She crossed her legs. "Better give me the abbreviated version, I've been looking forward to seeing Cassie all day."

A quiver at the corner of his eye. "My intent is not to shock you-"

"Just to change my mind."

"To make you consider all the facts."

"I have to consider all the facts for you to believe I'm thinking 'rationally' about my situation. Of course you don't have to."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Seems pretty obvious to me. He's kept his word about everything since he's come here. He showed more restraint this morning than I thought he had in him, considering how upset I was. Let me just point out that it's all this secrecy that led to the whole incident to begin with. You still treat him like a leper, and everyone I've come into contact with takes every opportunity to try and convince me that I don't know what I know." Kelly took a deep breath and got her temper back under control. "So, I understand the generosity of your offer and I appreciate that and offering me a place to recover, but I'm not staying here without Victor."

He watched her for a long moment. Kelly never flinched. His calm smile was back. "I can see how upset you are, that wasn't my intent."

She nodded. "I'm certain that you're busy. Is there somewhere else I could wait?"

"Please, let me take you on a tour. Even if you are just visiting you should at least be comfortable."

A little smile, this one was warmer. "A mobile debate?"

He smiled back. "No debate at all, and no ducking in doorways or behind large pieces of furniture."

Kelly sighed. She could fight with him until Cassie was out of class, or she could make nice and take a look around the place. She got up. "Alright. What little I've seen has certainly made me curious."

Creed walked down the path back to the cottage. Jimmy was next to him, but he might as well have been a million miles away. Every instinct in his body was telling him to go back for the frail, to take her out of there, pack her in the closest vehicle and drive as far and fast as he could. Course he knew what that would do to her. She wasn't ready for that, even though she'd say she was. Fucking mess.

"Well?" Jimmy asked.

Creed glanced over at him. Clearly, his brother was waiting for something.

"Well what?"

"I asked if you still run."

Creed smirked a little. "That a trick question?"

"Nope, just curious."

"Fuckin' nosy you mean." His smile widened. "Figured I'd do that while she was up at the big house."

Jimmy looked away.

"What? Ain't like I got anything else to do. So far, she ain't taught me how to knit and you boss don't see fit to put any books in that damn place."

"You know you can't-"

He stopped and faced the smaller man. "Jesus Christ Jimmy! I jumped through his fucking hoops, the only thing I haven't done is kiss his wrinkled old ass. I think at least I deserve a few minutes to myself."

Jimmy crossed his arms and sniffed the air. He looked at Creed and shrugged.

Creed growled. "What? You fishing for a fucking invitation?"

"That so terrible? You used to like it."

Creed looked away into the trees. "You didn't use to hate my fucking guts either."

Jimmy shrugged. "Yeah well, you're still an ass but at least you haven't been unbearable."

"You're still a fucking pain in the ass." He looked at his brother and then back into the snow-laden trees. "I ain't gonna slow down for you. You can't keep up, tough shit." Creed didn't wait for an answer, he took two long strides, then dropped to all fours and headed into the trees. He didn't look back to see if the runt was following.

Kelly walked slowly through the school while Professor Xavier told her a little more about the school and what his students were offered. It wasn't quite the neutral tour he'd promised, but she hadn't really expected that either. At least he'd left the subject of Victor alone. It was enough to keep her smiling and nodding. They finished the tour in a small sunroom. The warm room was a contrast to the snowy scene outside. A bell sounded from somewhere in the building. She looked at the professor.

"That's the last bell of the day." He smiled. "Cassie will be here in a moment." He rolled toward the door. "You know, you can change your mind about my offer at any time."

She nodded. "I appreciate that. Am I confined to this room once she gets here?"

He smiled a little. "No, though I thought you might be more comfortable at first if you weren't surrounded by quite so many people. The choice is yours though."

Cassie appeared at the door a moment later. She dropped her books in a chair and hugged Kelly. Kelly fought the urge to cry, even though she didn't understand where that urge was coming from.

Creed lounged on a stout, low branch of a bare tree next to a small frozen pond. Jimmy sat a short distance away on a large rock. He wasn't sure how far they'd gone, but he knew they'd circled the property at least once. The exertion in the cold air had done him good. Almost as much good as a hunt would have, but he figured he couldn't have everything. The breathing woods, sunshine on his skin and a frail who'd be happy to see him when he got back was pretty damn close to everything anyway.

"You're quiet."

"Yeah, and?" He didn't turn his head.

"Just an observation."

"Thanks. Without it I might not have known."

"She really put up with that mouth of yours?"

Creed glanced over at his scowling brother. He smirked. "Hell, half the time she gives it right back to me."

Jimmy chuckled. "Glad someone does."

Creed looked up at the sky again. For a few minutes silence and winter birdsong filled the space between them. "Guy who brought me here is coming back later tonight with some stuff. Gonna be a big pain in the ass to get him let in?"

A different kind of silence grew for a long moment. "Depends. What do you need so bad?"

Creed looked at him. "Jimmy-"

"You forget how long I've known you. I ain't just gonna say yes without asking some questions."

He looked away again. "You want an inventory? Fine. Mostly it's dinner. Figured I'd give the frail an evening off. Beyond that I bought her a coat.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "A coat?"

"You know, one of those things you put on over your clothes. Keeps you warm. She'll wear my shit and not complain about it but I'm damn sure sick of seeing her like that. Any part of that contraband?"

"No." Jimmy sounded curious and baffled at the same time. "Dinner and a coat?"

Creed rolled his eyes. "And I suppose you didn't take care of your girl – whether she was yours or not – after all that Liberty Island shit went down." His brother looked away. Creed sat up and straddled the branch. "Son of a bitch, you left." The surprise registered in his voice.

Jimmy turned his face away. "It wasn't like that! It wasn't just some random-"

"Sure, you've always got your reasons. Lemme guess, it had something to do with your deep, dark forgotten past."

"So what if it did?"

"Goddamn you're a fucking idiot sometimes."

Jimmy faced him again, this time he was angry. "You Dear fuckin' Abby all of sudden?"

"No, but I recognize a load of horseshit when I see it." He swung his leg over the branch and jumped down. "You do what you want. Run away, stay here and torture yourself watchin' all the little boys sniff around her, or you can find your balls and do what you've wanted to do all along. Doesn't matter to me one way or the other, I'm just sick of seeing you mooning around like a lovesick cow. I'm going back. You don't wanna come, I know the way."

Cassie and Kelly stretched out over the comfortable furniture in the sun room. Winter sunshine cast a golden glow over everything in the room.

As bright and cheery as the sun was, things had been awkward at first. Kelly could tell that Cassie had a lot she wanted to ask, but the other girl wasn't sure where to start. "You can ask anything you want to know."

She looked at her pink polished nails. "I shouldn't."

"Why not?" Kelly was starting to wonder if Professor Xavier just liked secrecy or if he was genetically disposed to it.

Cassie shook her head. "I never thought I'd see you again, I don't want to upset you."

Kelly took a deep breath. "I'm not made of glass and I'm sick of secrets. If you want to know something, ask. If I can't tell you because the wound is still too raw, I'll let you know that."

"Did he...kidnap you? Sabertooth I mean." Cassie's eyes were wide.

"Of course not!" Kelly wasn't shocked by the idea, but she was certain that Victor's prices were well outside of Stan's budget at the time. She kept that bit of information to herself. "He saved my life."

The look of disbelief on Cassie's face spoke volumes.

Kelly told her the whole story, from the time she was packed off in Roland Dawes' old car to her last desperate escape attempt. "Victor could have left me in the woods, but he didn't. He took me back to his house, fed me, let me rest and heal."

"And you think that was because he cared about you?" The disbelief was still in her voice.

"Oh God no. I don't really know why he did it at first. I was a mess, malnourished, beaten up, certainly not much to look at or much of a challenge. Maybe he figured if he gave me enough time I'd be more interesting, or at least put up more of a fight."

Disbelief was replaced with shock. "And that's what got you all excited?"

Kelly laughed. "Well, not exactly. He was rude and abrasive and intentionally scary ninety-eight percent of the time." Kelly drew her feet up under her and watched the light play in glass bowl on the coffee table. A little smile still on her lips. "There were other times though. He'd say something and it'd be really funny or unexpected and I'd laugh and he'd give me this look like that was the last thing he ever expected, but he liked it. It was like a little peek behind all the walls. The more I saw, the more I wanted to see." She looked at Cassie again. "I guess there was something he liked about me too."

Cassie leaned closer. "With everything I've been told about him I just figured he must have hurt you to get you to stay with him."

Kelly shook her head. "I don't know that he would have gone to that kind of trouble. If he were going to use force, whether I liked him or not wouldn't have mattered." Kelly leaned closer and smiled. "Enough about me. Tell me more about what you've been up to."

Creed's eyes snapped open in the dark room. Something had awakened him, but he was damned if he knew what it was. The frail was curled up against his side. For the first time in days she'd fallen asleep next to him on the sofa and stayed asleep with the sweet scent of her relaxation had surrounding them both. If that was the effect that girl had on her, he'd make damn sure they got to see each other as often as possible.

She shifted against him and murmured something in her sleep. He didn't bother trying to decipher it, he just stroked her back until she was deeply sleeping again, her slim fingers spread over his heart.

Couldn't be as simple as the girl, or the fact that she'd loved the meal or the fact that she practically cried when he gave her the coat. Maybe she was starting to process some of it. Either that or it was pure exhaustion.

A soft beep from somewhere in the house drew his attention. He glanced at the dresser and saw that his cell phone wasn't plugged in. Had to be a message. He sighed and shifted the frail carefully so that he could get up. For moment, he watched to make sure that she didn't stir, then he went out to find his phone. Another soft beep led him to the kitchen counter. The only missed call was from Conlon. He dialed quickly.

"What?" He said, as soon as the phone was answered.

"Kelly's mother was brought into the ER about four hours ago now. Attempted suicide apparently."

Creed leaned back against the counter and closed his eyes. He didn't give a shit about the bitch, but the frail had had just about enough in his estimation. "Fuck. You sure she tried to off herself?"

"Yeah. The nurse I got on Cody is friends with the one who did the intake in the ER. I don't have all the details yet, but what I know so far is that she tried cutting her wrists, but none of the wounds were life-threatening. I figure if she'd had help, the help probably wouldn't have botched it."

"Probably not. That leaves the kid under Stan's care?"

"Yeah."

"Can he pull the plug?"

"Not from what I understand. Cody's breathing on his own, he's got brain activity. He's got a feeding tube, but he's been making steady progress and the prognosis looks pretty decent for the kind of injuries he's had."

Creed's eyes were fixed on the dark hall. "Bitch gonna be in the psych ward awhile?"

"Seventy-two hours at least. Last I heard though, her psychiatrist was making arrangements for her at some private clinic. I don't have the name yet."

Creed shook his head. That fucking stunk too, but he didn't have time to worry about it. "Keep me informed." He ended the call and immediately dialed Joe's number.

The phone rang a long time before Joe finally answered. "Demmer." His voice was guarded and surprisingly alert for two-thirty in the morning.

"Creed."

"Is Kelly okay? What's wrong?" His anxiety rose, but he kept his voice down. Probably to avoid waking up the old woman.

"Frail's fine." Creed heard the other man sigh with relief. "Apparently her mother tried to off herself earlier tonight. You got a lawyer?"

"Does Kelly know?"

"I only found out ten minutes ago and she ain't gonna find out until tomorrow morning. There's nothing she can do about it. I damn well know she wouldn't want the kid left in Stan's care alone. Figure if you want to or need to make a legal move, this'd be the time."

"I'll have a lawyer tomorrow morning. You or Kelly will keep me up to date?"

"She probably will, 'less I get some more information that she doesn't have."

Creed said goodbye and ended the call. He went back to the bedroom and found the frail still sound asleep. She'd moved into the spot he'd been laying in. He pulled the blankets back and got in on the other side. She shivered and he felt the goosebumps prickle her skin. He wrapped himself around her and she relaxed again.


	27. The Commitments

_Hi everyone,_

_Here we are again, another chapter. A bit longer than the some of the others. I hope you enjoy! :)_

_psyche b_

27. The Commitments

Creed watched the frail. She was just sitting there, staring at a spot on the floor in front of her. She wasn't gone, not like she was just before they left Chicago, but seeing her that way still made him fucking jumpy.

It wasn't like he'd never delivered bad news before. Usually he didn't give a shit how the person took it. He'd thought about softening it, but he didn't have the words to do that. He figured she would have suspected something worse if he'd tried.

Finally, he couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Say something." It came out sharper than he intended.

A little shrug with one shoulder, her eyes were still on the floor. "I don't know what to say. My mother never was terribly stable. Cody's hurt, she thinks I'm dead..." She took a deep breath. "I suppose it was all too much." Her voice was flat, cold.

"Frail-"

"I'm going to take a bath." She was up and gone out of the small room before he had a chance to finish.

He didn't know what the fuck he was going to say anyway. 'The bitch never did shit to protect you when you needed it.' 'I'd say good riddance, but she fucked it up.' 'It ain't worth ruining your day over.' She probably wouldn't think of any of that as comforting, but he wasn't the comforting type.

He heard the water running. That only added to itch of nervousness. She sat in the tub when he was with her, and when she was upset. Not just the ordinary kind of upset either. The kind that made his teeth hurt just to think about it. The kind that he couldn't do a fucking thing about.

Creed stared at the narrow hall and wondered what the fuck he was doing there in the first place. He couldn't fix it, he couldn't comfort her. Hell it was probably his goddamn fault to begin with. He glanced at the phone. It would only take one call. He could tell the old man that he was leaving, but she was staying behind. He'd be out the door before she even got out of the bathroom. Give her chance at something normal. That's what everybody wanted, right? Everybody except her.

Creed shook his head. He'd spent so damn much time with Jimmy in the past few weeks, he was starting to think like him. Another idea was starting to take shape, but if he was going to move forward with it, he needed some information. He grabbed his phone and dialed Conlon.

"Well?" He didn't bother with small talk.

Conlon didn't bother with small talk either. "She's still in the hospital, but she's going to be transferred to a private facility later this afternoon. From what I've been told, she's paranoid and hearing voices."

"Fucking great." He took a deep breath. "What about your other project?"

"All are located. Weird thing though, half of them have had fatal accidents."

Creed's eyebrows twitched in surprise, but he didn't let any of that creep into his voice. "Clumsy fuckers. Suppose they've been replaced already too."

"Frankly I don't think Cavallo could get anybody to sit next to him at the movies at the moment, let alone hire anyone in that particular capacity."

That had Creed's attention. "Why's that?"

"Among other things, he watched you smash his favorite interrogator's head like a ripe melon on live video feed. That was enough to scare him shitless. I don't know if anybody was with him or not, but word got out." There was a little smirk in Conlon's voice. "Nobody with half a brain wants to cross you when you're in a good mood, let alone when you're back from the dead and beyond pissed off."

"Can't fault that logic. He looking for Stan?"

"Most of his goons are in hiding. The ones who aren't couldn't find their own asses with both hands and a map. Besides, Stan's keeping himself in the public eye. All the anti-mutant crap he's stirring and the 'attacks' on his family has the CoH convinced he needs round the clock security. They're halfway decent too, pro could get to him though."

"Least we know where he is. Cavallo's in hiding I suppose?"

"Oh yeah, but as far as I can tell he's only got one hiding place. Shouldn't be too difficult to get hold of as long as he stays put."

Creed gave a self-satisfied smirk. At the end of the day, they were all fucking cowards. Nice to know the world hadn't changed much.

* * *

Kelly sat in the narrow tub, her knees drawn up. Her eyes were fixed on the cracked tile just above the faucet, her body rocked slowly. The water had gone tepid around her, but she barely noticed. She knew she should have felt something. Should have been angry or sad or something other than the flat resigned feeling that crowded in and filled the space in her head and her heart.

It should have been more.

This was her mother. The woman who'd done her best to fix all the little hurts of childhood, who'd read her books and kissed her goodnight and comforted her when she had a nightmare or when a storm woke her. All those things that are irreplaceable in the heart, all those experiences that can only sneak in narrow windows or be shut out forever.

She should have felt something for that. She would have, if that had been the whole story.

The withdrawal hadn't happened overnight. Logically, Kelly knew that if part of her mother hadn't been broken to begin with, that it wouldn't have happened at all. Logic didn't enter into affairs of the heart or the needs of a child. Each time her mother couldn't cope, each time she left Kelly to be the adult for Cody before she knew how to be an adult for herself, something changed. The bruises on her heart deepened, the trust that had been there began to erode.

It was nothing less than an series of abandonments, each following the other in a parade that Kelly had done her best to ignore. Had to ignore, for her own sanity and for Cody. That didn't mean it hadn't hurt, she'd just gotten good at ignoring the pain.

Now it was all there again, all at the surface, all clamoring for attention, refusing to be pushed aside or buried any longer.

Kelly's rocking slowed and a tear trickled down her cheek. She took a deep, wrenching breath and stopped holding it back.

* * *

Creed heard the deep sob. Even from that distance, through the fucking walls, he could hear the agony that laced that sound. He dialed again. "Jimmy, I need your bike."

"Fuck you!"

"I won't fucking ask the next time."

Jimmy sighed. "Why do you want it?"

Creed rolled his eyes. "C'mon Jimmy-"

"You expect me to say yes when you won't even answer the goddamn question?"

A low growl. "What? You think I'm gonna take her on a job and be back before dinner?"

"Never know with you."

Creed heard another painful sob. He took a deep breath. "The frail's bitch of a mother tried to off herself last night."

Silence. "Shit."

"Shit is right."

"And you wanna get away from her." There was a sneer in his voice.

"You fucking idiot. That's what you would do. I want to get her out of here for a little while, shake her up a little. Pull her mind out of the shithole those fucking bastards keep shoving it into." He took a deep breath. "Well?" He glanced toward the hallway and focused on the small sounds leaking out. He could still hear sobbing, but the sobs were weaker, more normal sounding.

Jimmy gave a deep sigh. "When?"

"Dunno, 'round noon probably. Give her time to get herself together."

Jimmy sighed. "I'll bring the keys by in an hour or so. If you make me regret this-"

"Yeah, yeah. You'll kill me." Creed rolled his eyes. "Honest to fucking God Jimmy, take ten minutes and think up a new threat." He ended the call and listened to the sounds filtering through from the bathroom.

Even to his hypersensitive ears there was nothing but silence. He moved closer. Still there was silence. He stood in front of the door. From what he could hear, she wasn't even moving in the tub. She wouldn't...no, that was ridiculous. The frail had been through a lot, but she wasn't that close to falling apart. At least, he didn't think she was.

He opened the door slowly, wanting to see and not wanting to see at the same time, even if he would never admit that to anyone. She was curled up, her head resting against the wall. Just the sight of her made his chest hurt. He grabbed a towel and held it out for her.

"C'mon frail." His voice was soft.

She looked up at him. For a moment he thought she was going to protest, but she started to slowly unwrap her arms from her legs. He could see her starting to shiver. He grasped her hand, giving her something to lean on as she stood.

"Jesus Christ, you're freezing." He wrapped the towel around her. She moved closer to him and waited. He pulled her close against his chest. "What'd you do? Sit in cold water?"

"Not at first."

He felt her knees tremble. That tiny sign of weakness reached the feral protector in him, a growl rose in his chest, his claws lengthened. She looked up at him.

He retracted his claws again. "Bed."

She shook her head. "I just got up-"

"So? You expecting the Queen for high tea?" He gripped her upper arm and pulled her toward the bedroom.

* * *

Kelly curled up with her back against his chest. He'd taken the towel away from her as soon as she'd dried off. She wasn't at all surprised when he undressed too. The warmth of his skin was probably the best thing in the world for her anyway. His hand wandered over her stomach, down over her leg and then back up to her breasts. Her mind hadn't really stopped, but at least the sharpest pain of shock had subsided to a dull throbbing.

"She's going to be in the hospital for awhile?"

"Yeah. They're moving her to a private facility later today."

"That fast? It only happened a few hours ago."

His hand paused, then continued again. "No, it didn't."

She looked over her shoulder, a nervous kind of upset rising. "What do you mean?"

He pulled her closer. "Conlon called last night."

She turned over and pulled the towel over herself. "You didn't tell me?"

"Frail-"

"She's my mother! She's a pretty poor example of one, but she's the only one I've got."

He gripped her upper arms and pinned her to the bed, his face inches from hers. She could see the anger in his eyes. "So if I woke you up in the middle of the fucking night, what could you have done?" His voice came out in a dangerous growl.

"I-"

"You? You what? You're gonna go see her? Wave a magic wand and make it all better?"

"No, but...but I just slept through it." Tears were stinging her eyes again.

"What were you dreaming about last night?" Some of the anger had faded, but he still held her in place, his face inches from hers.

Kelly's mind raced to catch a tendril of ether. She squirmed in his tight grip. "I-I don't know."

"Wasn't a nightmare, was it?" His intense eyes held nothing but certainty.

She stopped struggling as the realization hit her. "No."

"You've had nightmares just about every night since you woke up and if you haven't been screaming or crying or shaking you've been unconscious because you were healing. Last night you were relaxed. Just relaxed, sound asleep. I would've been fucking nuts to wake you up outta that to tell you something you couldn't do a goddamn thing about."

Her body went limp. He let her go. Kelly put her back to him again and he settled around her. "It's just a mess. Everything is a mess and I don't know where to start to clean it up."

He went back to stroking her stomach. "You can't. Fucking sucks, but it's the truth."

She laced her fingers with his. "I'm in the middle of it."

He gripped her hand. "Don't mean you caused it."

Kelly relaxed into him, her racing mind starting to finally slow down. She started to notice the tension in his body though. She waited. She knew that whatever it was would come out when he was ready.

"You think your mother took Panacea?"

Kelly had never considered the question before. "I doubt it, not on her own."

"If Stan gave it to her?"

She considered that. "If he gave her something and told her it was a vitamin or even a tranquilizer she probably wouldn't have asked any questions. She always took handfuls of vitamins every morning and she had a whole collection of sleeping pills and anti-anxiety pills and God knows what else. Sometimes when I was locked up she'd offer me something to make me sleep or calm me down or whatever she thought I needed."

He lifted his head to look down at her. "You ever take it?"

"Once." She closed her eyes. "It was the second time I was locked up. It was so awful and when she asked me if I wanted something to help me sleep I said yes. I slept but when I woke up I didn't know where I was or why I was there. I couldn't think, I couldn't focus." She shivered at the memory. He pulled her closer. She let him shelter her while the fearful memory pulled at her and then faded. She took a deep breath. "Do you think Stan overdosed her?"

"What I know about Panacea is sketchy at best. Conlon said she was paranoid and hearing voices, from what I know, that sounds like she was on it and then didn't have it."

She sighed. "Or she snapped."

He kissed the top of her head, his hands drifting over her body in silence again. Kelly was starting to nod off, escaping into that quiet comfortable moment. Victor was right; there was nothing she could do. Even if she went to the hospital now it would probably do more harm than good. Her mother believed her to be dead. The last thing an unsettled mind needed was a forcible rearrangement of the most basic beliefs.

She told herself that her mother would be cared for. It would be a PR nightmare for Stan if it got out that his beloved, fragile wife, who had recently lost both of her children, was being warehoused at some substandard state-run asylum. Of course, that left-

"Cody!" She sat up. "Even if someone's watching him, Stan's still the one who makes medical decisions-"

"I called Joe last night, told him to get a lawyer." Victor pulled her back down again. "Conlon'll keep Joe up to date, Joe will decide if he wants to take it to the courts."

Panic ebbed again. She turned to face him and snuggled close.

* * *

Creed lay still, listening to the frail's breathing. She'd started dozing a few minutes after he told her about the kid. She wasn't quite asleep, not really. Her breathing was different and every so often her eyes would flutter open for a split second. Probably a good thing. If she was fully asleep, she would dream and if he knew her, she'd twist all this shit around until she found a way to blame herself.

Somewhere in that half-waking state, she found his hand again. He gripped her fingers lightly and drew her closer. She mumbled something and then went silent again. A year ago he would have called her weak, been disgusted, pushed her away. That was before he understood that steel could be wrapped in soft skin and disguised by delicate touches. A soft purr rumbled through his chest.

She turned to face him, her lips finding his in a hesitant kiss. His mouth was every bit as careful, his hands as tender when they stroked her skin. This was more than need, more than arousal or lust. He didn't have a word for what it was, didn't have an experience to connect it to. He just knew that it took his breath away.

For a long, sensuous moment he let her mouth guide his while he took in the taste of her, the way her scent mingled with his. The heady combination of the two drew him closer to intoxication than any alcohol ever had. His fingertips floated over her skin, his tongue caressing hers. Despite his soft touch, he could feel her yield to him in a thousand little ways. She shifted her arm so that his hand could move freely. She turned her head, parted her lips, all at his tender insistence. It was too much and not enough all at the same time.

The sound of someone walking on the cold path that led to the guest house pulled him reluctantly out of the moment.

He stroked her cheek. "Someone's coming, probably Jimmy." His voice was a soft rumble.

"I'll get dressed." She started to get up, but he kept her in place with a hand on her waist.

"Nah, sleep a little more if you want. I'll see what he wants." He got up and pulled on a pair of sweats. She pulled the blankets up around her shoulders.

"Should call Granna and Grandpa." The barest hint of her arousal teased the air around him. Suddenly he wished he hadn't called Jimmy.

He stroked her hair, picked up a sweatshirt and left. He pulled on a pair of boots and walked out into the chilly morning. The bright sunlight brought the sparkle of diamonds to the crust of the snow.

Jimmy came toward him. He could see the other man sniff the air.

He tried to hide a smirk. "I interrupt something?"

Creed gave a toothy grin. "That any of your fucking business, Runt?"

"I can smell it all around ya."

Creed shrugged. "So? I was alone with my mate. Most natural thing in the world."

"She's upset and you're fucking her?"

Creed shook his head. "You can be such a fucking idiot sometimes. Just give me the keys and don't tell the old man."

Jimmy handed over a set of keys. "Had to tell him."

Creed growled. "Jimmy-"

The smaller feral ignored the growl. "You try and keep something from him. Besides, it's gonna be pretty fucking obvious when you leave and want back in. You goin' anywhere in particular?"

"Just full of questions today, aren't you?"

Jimmy shrugged. "There's a place about thirty miles east called the Cavinder Inn. It's run by a man and his wife, both mutants. It's quiet and they put on a hell of meal. It's off season, so the place should be fairly quiet."

Creed studied his brother. "You been there recently?"

A little smirk. "Took Marie there for dinner last night."

Creed grinned. "About damn time."

Jimmy gave a short laugh. "That's what she said." He held out a leather jacket. "It's Marie's. She thought Kelly might need it."

Creed gave a nod and took the jacket.

"How's she doing? Kelly I mean."

"She's stronger than she looks." Creed knew it wasn't the answer that Jimmy was looking for, but it was all he was willing to give.

Jimmy nodded. He probably recognized the deflection, but he didn't push for more.

* * *

"C'mon frail." There was annoyance and something she could only call nervousness in his gruff voice.

She came out of the bedroom, pulling a sweater on over her turtleneck. Why he was so intent on taking a walk with her at that moment was beyond her. He had been cooped up more than usual though and she knew that Victor seemed to function better in the outdoors. That was probably it.

"Ready." She smiled at him.

"Put this on." He handed her a leather jacket.

She took it and pulled it on. The light scent of perfume struck her. "Whose is this?"

"Marie's."

"But I already have a coat."

"Just trust me frail." The nervous annoyance was back.

She zipped the jacket and followed him out the door.

They started down the path slowly. Most of the shock of the morning had worn off, only to be replaced by something that could only be described as a chilly emptiness. She figured in time, that would pass too.

"You know how a boss like Cavallo gets to be a boss?" Victor's eyes were straight ahead.

Just hearing the name tied her stomach in knots. Kelly knew it wasn't a casual question, but she had no idea where he was going with it. "I guess I never thought about it before." She crossed her arms over her stomach.

He stroked the back of her neck. "Two ways. The dangerous ones get ahead by being eager to get their hands bloody and they tend to enjoy it. The other ones get to the top by getting other people to do the messy part for 'em. They pay for it, they blackmail for it, whatever as long as they don't get their own hands dirty, because deep down they ain't got the balls to do it themselves. Take away that support system and they fall apart. Cavallo's that kind of boss."

Kelly flinched again. This time she covered it better. Something else occurred to her though. She stopped and took his arm. "He's afraid of you, isn't he?"

Creed smirked, revealing one keen fang. "'Tween my reputation and the fact that a few of his key people have started having accidents, he's fucking terrified."

Kelly's eyes widened. "You mean the ones who took me-"

He gripped her hand, smiled a little wider and started walking again. "Funny thing, you'd think a bunch of accident-prone motherfuckers wouldn't have been able to pull off what they did. Must've been dumb luck."

"Does that mean..." she hesitated to say the words, "that I'm safe?"

"Don't think I can go that far. We do have a window of opportunity though, as long as we're careful."

They came out of the trees and into the circular driveway. A large black motorcycle was parked in the wide circle in front of them. Victor grinned down at her.

"Window...you mean on that?" Kelly's heart started to pound.

"Yeah. 'S Jimmy's but it looks like he keeps it in decent shape."

She pulled her hand away and took a step back. She shook her head. "No."

He turned and advanced on her. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean no!" Kelly's head was spinning. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

He growled. "Frail-"

Tears were in her eyes, she was backing away from him. "I'm dead! To all of them I'm dead and if I show up somewhere and somebody recognizes me it'll get back to Stan and that will just make a bigger mess!" She was shaking, terrifying images filled her mind's eyes, the scents of her own blood and sweat crowding out the clean scents of snow and pines.

Victor gripped her arms tightly. "Frail!" The past faded away again in degrees. She held onto his arms to steady herself. When her legs felt stronger, she looked up at him.

"I'm sorry, I can't-"

"Yeah, you can."

She shook her head. He dug a hand into her hair and held her head still. "Ninety-five percent of people don't notice what the fuck is going on around them because they don't really give a shit. The ones who do notice have no goddamn idea what you're look like now."

Kelly felt some of the tension leave her muscles.

"You ever watch Stan when he's on TV?" His grip on the back of her hair eased.

"No." Her voice was small. Victor had kept her away from most of the reports in the beginning. The few times she had been on her own Kelly hadn't been able to bring herself to watch for more than a few seconds.

"Don't waste your time, it's all bullshit. He shows pictures of you and your brother, but in those pictures you look like you're about thirteen and bony as all hell. On the road you're going to wear a helmet. Where we're goin' is a place run by mutants." He shrugged. "Jimmy says they got good food, but he's never had much taste in that kinda shit."

She moved a little closer to him. "You said that before." The words were painful to say, and she fully expected his anger.

He pulled her head against his chest instead. "Game's changed, frail. 'F I had to guess, I'd say that it's gonna be another couple of weeks before Cavallo can convince himself that it ain't as bad as he thinks it is. Probably take more time to get his people back around him and then it'll be the ones who want to move up, meaning they'll be third rate talent at best. He might have it in him to make a move on Stan, but it's going to take him awhile to be able to come after us again. If there's anybody out there now, they're unorganized."

She relaxed into him. "You're sure he will come after me?"

"I'd bet on it. Be a matter of pride with him by then. Not like he's gonna have a chance." He kissed the top of her head. "Gonna break you of that habit of saying no to me."

She looked away. "I'm always going to be like this aren't I? Crazy I mean."

"You ain't crazy now, frail." He dug his hand into her hair again, forcing her to look up at him. He smirked a little. "Pain in my ass sometimes, but not crazy."

She smiled a little.

He took her arm and led her down the path toward the motorcycle again. Kelly followed without fight this time. He handed her a black helmet. Kelly looked at it and then at the bike. Her heart started to pound again.

"This is why you told me to wear layers, isn't it?" She shifted uncertainly.

"Yeah." The corner of Victor's mouth quirked into a little grin. "Never been on one, have you?"

She shook her head and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "No."

He smiled wider. "I have."

She thought about protesting but found she didn't have any real argument, except for fear.

"Put the helmet on, and get on behind me."

Kelly put the helmet on and buckled the strap under her chin. She got on hesitantly and the machine rumbled to life. He pointed to a place where she could rest her feet. Kelly shifted uncertainly. When her feet were off the ground, he grabbed her hands and wrapped her arms around his waist. She bit back a surprised squeak as they started moving forward.

* * *

The roads were perfect, but Creed was careful at first. The frail's arms were tense and he could feel the tremors in her body over the vibrations of the bike. He concentrated on how she felt against him. She was breathing faster, though sometime after the first ten miles some of that fear evaporated. He felt her body start to relax and the tremor faded.

Fifteen miles in, he felt the tension fade completely. Creed smiled and sped up.

Kelly relaxed into an armchair in front of a wide stone fireplace at the Cavinder Inn. As far as she could tell, they were the only guests there. They ate far too much in front of the warm fire and Kelly found herself halfway believing that things were normal and this was just a little outing with Victor.

"Frail." His voice was a soft rumble.

She looked over at him, a little smile on her lips. "Sorry, was I drifting off?"

He smiled. "Yeah. Wanna stay?"

Kelly laughed softly. "Yes. I told Cassie I'd go over to see her after she's out of class though."

He chuckled. "Jimmy'd probably shit fucking bricks if we don't come back. Makes me wanna do it, just to see the look on his face."

Kelly couldn't resist a giggle. "For people on the fringes, we certainly seem to have a lot of commitments."

"Yeah." He sighed. "Not sure I like it."

She leaned her head against the side of the chair. "It's different. Maybe once in awhile it's okay, but not all the time."

An older woman with reddish scaly skin walked over. She smiled. "How was everything?"

"Delicious, thank you." Kelly said. Victor just nodded.

"Would you like anything else?"

"Just the check," Victor said.

She nodded and walked away. Kelly closed her eyes for a few minutes again. Victor would take care of the rest and the heat of the fire felt so good. Less than fifteen minutes later they were out in the parking lot again. She shivered as the cold wind hit her. He handed her the helmet. This time, she didn't hesitate.

The ride back seemed to be over much more quickly than the ride there. She was almost sorry to see the gates of the mansion, even though she was shivering. He reached for the helmet, but she took his hand instead.

"We're leaving soon, aren't we?"

He gave a short nod. "Sunday."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you, for all this."

He looked at her as if she had said it in a foreign language. She moved closer and stood on her toes. He leaned down and kissed her. His mouth was more commanding than it had been earlier, but it made her knees pleasantly weak. She let herself get lost in it.

A cough startled her. "This is a school ya know." She recognized Logan's gruff voice. A deep blush rose to her cheeks and she reluctantly backed away from Victor. She couldn't take her eyes from his though.

"Part of their education, Runt." Victor looked at the smaller man and tossed the keys at him. He put his arm around her waist and led her toward the path. "C'mon frail, wouldn't want to corrupt anybody." Kelly leaned into him as they walked.

* * *

Kelly spent part of the afternoon napping next to Victor. She wasn't sure that he slept much, but it did feel good to curl up next to him. A little before four, he walked her to the end of the path, Logan met her there. She could feel Victor's anxiety rising, even though she wasn't sure why.

"Are you coming?" She asked.

"Nah, got nothing to go over there for." His eyes were on his brother when he leaned in to kiss her. "That's if I'm trusted to walk back without an escort."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Suppose if shit happens I'll know where to look."

Kelly gripped Victor's hand a moment longer and then turned away. She could feel Victor's eyes on her as they walked toward the mansion. They were halfway there before she remembered the jacket in her hand. She handed it back to him.

"Thanks."

He took it from her. "You're welcome. You enjoyed it?"

She smiled a little. "It got my mind off of everything for a little while. He told you about my mother?"

A short nod. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks." She sighed. "I guess I'm starting to get used to the idea. Either that, or I'm still numb."

"You able to find out anything about how she is?"

"Yes. Conlon's been keeping Victor as up to date as he can. I don't think there's a whole lot to say though. They're keeping her safe from herself for the moment. I'm not sure what else can be done in such a short time."

"You're not allowed to talk to this Conlon guy?"

Kelly could hear the 'leading up to something' tone in his voice. She took a deep breath and worked to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "I don't usually have any need to talk to him when Victor's around."

"But Victor keeps him busy." The sarcasm was clear.

She shrugged. "I wouldn't know anything about that. Conlon takes me grocery shopping, talks to me and keeps me safe while Victor's away."

"And he's got you trained not to ask questions."

She looked at him and smiled. "Your turn to have a go at me?"

He turned his head quickly. "What makes you say that?"

Kelly smiled a little. "Well, classes don't let out for half an hour yet so you have the time."

His eyebrows drew together and Kelly was reminded of the look of exasperation Victor got sometimes. She suppressed a giggle.

"Maybe I had something else to do. I do work here you know."

"Cassie said you teach fighting or something to some of the students, but that's over in the mornings."

"You been conducting interviews?"

"No, I just listen to what people tell me." She couldn't resist a little smile. "Besides, you're the only one who hasn't lectured me yet so I figured it was about time."

He stopped and stared at her.

She looked up at him. "What?"

He smiled a little. "Inside. It's cold out here."

Kelly followed him into the mansion and through to a comfortable, large sitting room. They ignored the open space and television and sat on a large, comfortable sofa. He let her sit, and sat with a with one wide cushion between them.

"Go ahead, lecture away." She smiled.

"And you won't listen to a word of it."

"Well, I have heard it several times before. Gets a bit harder to listen after that."

"You're not gonna hear it from me."

Kelly looked at him, unsure where he was going. "Is this some kind of reverse psychology thing?"

"Nope. This is an 'I know my brother' thing. It's been a goddamn long time since I saw anything but hate and bloodlust in his eyes. Figured that's all he had left. Then he showed up on the lawn with you wrapped up in that fucking coat and the way he looked at you..." He looked away, like whatever was coming next was hard for him to say. "It was like, just for a split second, he was human." He looked at her again. "You're different when you're around him too."

Kelly was surprised, this time she didn't try and keep it off of her face. "I do? How?"

A little smile. "Not ways most people would notice. When you sit or stand you lean closer to him. When he touches you, your whole body reaches back and your scent changes, sweetens. Chuck'd call that Stockholm Syndrome, but I know you can terrify someone into all that little unconscious shit. You're his because you want to be."

Kelly nodded. "That's what I've been trying to say."

"Don't mean I think you're safe." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He held it out to her. "This is my number. Not the school, me. You decide you need out you call me. I'll make it happen."

She took it and clasped his hand for a second. "Thank you."

He nodded. "And I know you're gonna tell him I gave it to you."

She laughed. "He probably won't be surprised." Kelly pulled out her phone and programmed it in. She started to hear voices in the hallway.

He glanced up at the clock. "C'mon, in a few minutes this room is going to be full of kids."

She got up. "Am I still a secret?"

He laughed. "Secrets around here last for about two days tops. Just don't want you to have to answer a million questions at once."

* * *

Creed leaned against a tree at the edge of the wood and watched the quiet mansion as the evening gathered. Jimmy handed him a beer and leaned against the other side of the same tree.

"Worried about her?" The runt asked.

"Fucking hate it when she's over there. All those horny little bastards sniffing around her and me nowhere in sight to keep 'em away. Makes me sick." He took a long swallow of the beer.

"Doubt she even sees 'em." He was sure he heard a little smirk in Jimmy's voice. "Soon as she gets there, she's off with Cassie and those other two. 'Sides, for some crazy reason she's only interested in your ugly ass."

Creed looked around the tree at his brother. "How long did it take you to get your hair fluffed up 'fore you came out here? An hour? Two?"

"Least you finally evened yours out. Was starting to wonder if she kept you too tired to notice."

Creed grinned. "You're just jealous because you ain't gettin' any."

"Keep tellin' yourself that."

They were silent for a few minutes as Creed watched shadows pass by curtained windows. He knew the frail was in one of the rooms on that side of the building, but he didn't know which one and there were lights on in just about all of them.

"You're leaving tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Still trying to get your boss to tell me what I owe him."

"You may as well give up on that. He ain't gonna take any more money than what you already gave him."

"Means he wants somethin' else." Creed took another long swallow.

A short, sarcastic laugh. "He usually does."

"He gonna keep me from taking her out of here tomorrow?"

"Doubtful. She wants to leave and she's legally an adult. S'pose he could turn you in to some authority, but I figure he's got bigger plans."

Creed rolled his eyes. "Why the fuck do you stay here?"

"You think I should get my ass back in the cage where I belong?"

"That was your dumbass idea." Creed took a long swallow. "Plenty of work for an independent contractor with your skills."

Jimmy looked around the tree. "You lost your goddamn mind? I got out of all that shit."

"I don't mean you should do what I do. There's plenty of factions out there nobody's even heard of. Pick a few that fit with all that moralistic bullshit you spout, get your girl and get the fuck out."

Jimmy moved out of his sight again. "Ain't that easy."

Creed didn't ask for an explanation. He was silent for a moment. "You change your mind, you know how to find me."

* * *

Kelly sat on the floor with Cassie, and Cassie's roommates Sophie and Lucy. They were in the same small sunroom where she and Cassie had spent their first afternoon. A pizza box, soda cans and a bowl of popcorn was laid out around them. She got the impression that the little send-off had taken some convincing on Cassie's part, but it had been a fun evening of laughing and eating and getting to know the other two girls.

"What should we watch now?" Cassie asked, sorting through the stack of DVD's in her hand.

Kelly stretched. "What time is it?"

"It's not that late." Sophie said. Of the three, Sophie was the only one with an obvious mutation. Patterns and colors shifted under her skin according to her emotions. Now her pinkish hue shifted to a darker red with bands of purple dots, betraying a disappointed kind of excitement. "C'mon we have three movies left to watch."

"I know, but I told Victor I'd be back before midnight."

"Do you get in trouble if you're late?" Lucy smirked. Kelly learned quickly that the tall brunette could make just about anything sound slightly naughty.

Kelly laughed. "No."

"Then we'll watch another movie." Cassie said.

"I can't."

"What's it like?" Sophie asked. A shot of curious orange passing over her features.

"Sophie!" Cassie sounded shocked.

"What? We all wanted to ask." Sophie said.

"And she can tell us or not." Lucy said.

Kelly's mind raced. She knew exactly what they were talking about, and she knew it was a subject she didn't really want to get into.

"She's blushing!" Sophie pointed a webbed finger at Kelly and started to giggle.

"I am not!" Kelly covered her burning cheeks with her hands.

"Just give us some little detail." Lucy said.

Kelly looked from one to the other. "He's a cover-hog."

The three girls groaned and leaned back. "Come on!" Sophie said.

"What? I would guess it's not that different than being with any other guy." Kelly was fairly certain that wasn't true, but it might serve to make someone else the focus of the conversation.

"Sophie wouldn't know," Lucy smirked. "She never has."

"I have so!" Fireworks of bright red embarrassment covered her cheeks. "Well, mostly anyway."

"Besides, living here is like living in a convent." Cassie said.

"And forget sneaking out," Lucy added. "Half the teachers are psychic."

Sophie looked at the brunette. "Doesn't seem to stop you."

Lucy shrugged. "It's kind of like a challenge now. I'm starting to think that if I ever didn't have to plot and plan and sneak around it won't be half as much fun."

Kelly laughed, so did the others.

"You still haven't given us any details," Cassie said.

"What can I say really?" Kelly blushed deeply. "It was weird at first, but now...now it's...I don't really know how to say it."

The girls were silent for a long moment. Cassie spoke first, her voice subdued. "You really love him."

Kelly smiled a little. "That's one way of putting it."

* * *

At five minutes to midnight, Kelly walked into the small guest house. The main room was dark, but she could see light coming from the bedroom. She took a quick shower and pulled on the t-shirt she'd left out. She was only halfway surprised that he was still awake when she got into the bedroom. He glanced up from the book he was reading. She cocked her head to get a better look at the title.

"_Crime and Punishment_?" She pulled the shirt off and got into bed with him.

He put the book on the nightstand and pulled her close.

"Yeah. Don't know what the fuck Jimmy was thinking. He'd knows I hate Russian literature. Finished everything else he brought over though. You ever read it?" One hand moved over her hip and thigh. His mouth found hers in a soft kiss.

"No." Her fingers stroked over his chest. "Why do you hate Russian literature?"

"'Cause it's usually long and depressing. Course Russia was cold and depressing when I was there so I suppose you can't expect anything different." His hand started to stroke more freely over her body, as if he was refamiliarizing himself with her contours.

She sighed and leaned into his chest. "You've been to Russia?"

She felt his short laugh more than she heard it. "I been damn near everywhere, frail." He stroked her cheek, she looked up at him. "You got somewhere you wanna go?"

Kelly met his eyes. "To see Cody."

He smiled. "Figured that. I mean after."

She lowered her eyes again. "I don't know. I guess I never really thought about it."

He kissed her again, this time his tongue caressed hers. When he pulled away, Kelly was trembling with the tenderness of it.

"Think about it." His voice was a soft rumble. His mouth found hers again, his tongue playing with hers while the tips of his fingers drew curling patterns as they moved along her side and up to her breast.

She sighed against his mouth and let her fingers drift downward to stroke his hardening length.


	28. That's Different

_Hi Everyone,_

_I know this has been a terribly long time in coming, and I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you for your patience and for reading. :) Also, to the reader who suggested that "Horror of Our Love" was a Victor/Kelly song...I had never heard of it before, but when I listened it made me think of them, too. Thanks for the recommendation. _

_More action is coming, I promise. :)_

_psyche b._

28. That's Different

Kelly lay on her side and held the crumpled up sheet against the outside of her throbbing thigh. It had begun in a curious, playful tenderness and progressed to an unhurried intimacy that left them both tied up together in arms and legs. One clawed hand rested on her hip, the bite of those talons just enough to remind her of how fragile she was. It made the moment perfect.

He came back into the room with the black bag of medical supplies, a small towel and a bowl. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "This is your fault."

His statement lacked accusatory conviction.

"I didn't know the ice was going to fall off the roof at that moment." A shrug with one shoulder. "I only jumped a little."

"At the wrong fucking time." He poured peroxide into the bowl and wet the cloth in it. "Lemme see."

Kelly took her hand away and he carefully moved her makeshift dressing. "Don't tell me, tell the ice." She lifted her head. "Is it as deep as it seemed to start with?"

"Eh. It's one of the deeper ones you've had." He dipped the edge of the towel in the bowl and started to clean the long cuts. One was barely a scratch. Unless she miscalculated her new healing factor, that one would be gone within the hour. Two of the others might last until mid-morning. The one in the middle was deeper and more ragged. It was still oozing blood.

Kelly shivered. "Do you have to do that? I mean, won't it heal on it's own?"

He looked at her. "Sure it will. Course on you it'll take awhile so every time you move it'll open up again. Meaning however long it would've taken, it'll take three times longer and that's if it stays clean. 'F it doesn't, then we're talking about even longer. Wanna keep arguing with me?" A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

She smiled a little. "No."

"You're learning, frail." He pressed the cloth over the wounds again.

Kelly suppressed a whimper. For a long moment, a comfortable silence grew between them, her body curled close to his. She hadn't been able to dress, he hadn't bothered. Dim light played off the slopes of his muscles. For the moment, the almost perpetual tension in his shoulders had eased. Despite the throbbing ache in her hip and thigh, Kelly's smile got a little wider.

"What?" He smirked a little.

"Just thinking what an amazing man you are."

His hand paused and he looked away. "I'm a son of a bitch."

She stroked his leg and looked up at him. She stayed silent until he looked at her. "Not to me. To me, you're the person I trust completely. The one who makes me smile." She looked down at her hip. "The one who takes care of me when I do something stupid."

He gave a grudging little smile. She smiled back and gave a little shrug. "You're my mate, and I'm entitled to my opinion that you're amazing."

A slow grin spread across his face. "Sentimental shit." He leaned down and kissed her, his mouth more commanding than it had been in the last few hours. "You gonna let me finish this?"

She lay down again. "It's too big to bandage, isn't it?"

"Too deep to just bandage. Lucky I got these." He held up a box of butterfly-shaped tape strips. "'Less you want me to wake up the ape so that he can stitch you up."

Kelly groaned. "Please, they'd think you did it on purpose. I don't have it in me to try and explain and I really don't have it in me to listen to another lecture at this hour of morning. Though he does have anesthetic."

He shifted a little closer. "Keepin' the kit stocked is your thing."

"Guess I haven't been too focused lately." Kelly squeezed her eyes closed and felt tears well up when Victor started pulling the edges of the wound together and securing them. He kept one hand on her at all times. A soft purr rumbled through his chest. Kelly knew he was trying to comfort her, she clutched a handful of the pillow and did her best to say silent. It didn't work entirely.

For the most part, he ignored her pained mewling sounds and worked quickly to close the long wound. He stroked her hair, then picked up the bowl, the towel and the sheet and left her alone for a long moment. Kelly took a deep breath and waited for him. He settled behind her. "When we get to where we're goin', you'll have the chance to get set up again."

Kelly settled back into his chest. Any time she thought about leaving, a feeling between ache and nervousness settled into her chest. "Does...that mean you're leaving as soon as we get there?"

Clawed fingers stroked her stomach. "Nah. I need time to plan." He moved a little closer. "'Sides, I want you all to myself when we're actually alone. Fucking hate having a herd of people around all the damn time."

Kelly nodded. Her mind was suddenly racing with a thousand worries. It was the worst kind of anxiety. The kind that came with only nameless, formless images that slid through the dark corners of her mind. She didn't realize how tightly she was gripping the pillow until he wrapped his hand around hers. He waited until she relaxed her grip.

"You haven't asked where we're goin'." His voice was soft.

"I didn't think you'd tell me." The words came out too quickly.

He was silent. "And?"

She shook her head.

"You don't wanna go, do you?" He sounded hurt, but not surprised.

She twined her fingers with his. "That's not it, I just..." She took a deep breath. "It's not something I can explain. I do feel safe here because of all the walls and the gates. It was nice to have Cassie so close by." She fell silent again.

He pulled his hand away from hers and started to massage her breast. "That all you're gonna miss?"

She smiled a little, the possessive intimacy banishing the gathered tension. "I certainly won't miss the accommodations."

"Thought you could get comfortable just about anywhere."

"But there's this thing you do when you get into bed."

"Thought we been doin' plenty of that thing already." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

Kelly laughed. "I don't mean _that_. I mean when you get into bed somewhere you can really stretch out, you kind of stretch and arch and moan when you're settling in. You don't do that here."

"Think that's the bed or the place?" He toyed with her nipple.

"I don't know. Maybe both. I figure either way it doesn't matter much. If you can't even get comfortable in bed how you want to, how can I be really comfortable here?"

His arm tightened around her. "Right at the moment I'd be more comfortable if you'd shut the fuck up and go to sleep. It's three-thirty in the goddamn morning."

Kelly smiled and settled back into him. Sleep might not come, but relaxation would.

Creed looked down at the frail's profile sculpted in the gray light of false dawn. He knew she wasn't deeply asleep, but at least she was finally nodding off. There was more that she hadn't told him earlier. He knew that as sure as he was laying there, and he had a pretty good idea of what it was. She was going to see the ape in the morning, no reason for him to sit around and stare at walls. She shifted in her sleep. He purred softly and she settled again.

Kelly sat in Hank's office and waited for him to pull his gloves on.

"Why do you need another DNA sample? Everything is still working." Her hip was mostly healed, but the longest scratch was still throbbing dully.

He smiled and opened the swab. "The treatment was experimental. I know your healing factor is still working, but I want to be sure that nothing else was affected."

Kelly opened her mouth and let him swab the inside of her cheek. "Will you tell me how it turns out?"

He glanced at her, then hesitated. She waited.

"You'd like me to call Victor?" He said finally.

"If you want, but you could just call me." She smiled a little, took a Post-It note and a pen from his desk and wrote her cell number on it. "You could have just asked Cassie. She has it." She handed it to him.

"Victor won't mind?"

She looked at him with a level gaze. "Victor would be upset if I kept it a secret. I have no reason to do that."

He looked down at the paper in his hand, then back at her. "This is not a lecture, but I want you to know that if you need to come back, you can. No questions asked."

She smiled a little. "Thank you. For everything."

He shook his head. "You held on. You gave me enough time to put the pieces together." He smiled a little. So did she. A long moment passed in silence. "Physically I know you're fine, but as far as I know you haven't talked to anyone about how you're doing emotionally."

Her smile froze. "Of course I have, just not to you."

"Not to Cassie either."

Her eyes were fixed on his. "She's been debriefed already, has she? That's efficient. We haven't even left yet."

He took a deep breath. "Kelly, you should know that students who come here come from all kinds of backgrounds. Cassie has a loving family who had difficulty knowing how to deal with her mutation and thus, couldn't help her manage it. Many of our students come here severely traumatized. You've been through as much if not more than most of them."

Kelly shook her head. "So what's your point? You think it would be better if I sat around and cried about it?"

"If you bottle up your feelings-"

She gave a short, angry laugh. "Who said I was doing that? Any question Cassie asked me about what happened, I've answered as honestly as I could."

"Narrative doesn't always get to the emotion of the matter."

"You want to know how I feel? Fine." Kelly fought to keep a furious tremor out of her voice. "I hate Stan. He dragged my brother, my mother and I through Hell for no good reason and if it weren't for dumb luck and sheer ineptitude on his part he would have torn us apart. He's worse than Cavallo because Cavallo didn't know any of us. To him it was just business and maybe some kind of sick entertainment. Stan lived in the same house with us. He used us to show off at all his events and then when it suited his purposes he didn't hesitate to get rid of all of us. I hate him, and every day that goes by I hate him more." Kelly turned away and dug her fingernails into her palms, trying to get control of her raging emotions.

"If anyone deserves hatred, it's Stan." She wasn't facing him, but she could hear the 'understanding' tone in his voice. That just made her angrier.

She turned to face him. "And I suppose now you're going to tell me that it's not right to hate anyone, no matter what. You might as well save your breath."

"Morality doesn't enter into it. Hatred is a parasite. At first you don't feel any different, but as it grows it consumes more and more of your time, your energy, the essence of who you are. Besides, what do you get out of it? Your hatred doesn't affect him. You carry the burden and he goes on with his life as he always has."

She took a deep breath. "So what am I supposed to do about it? Forget about the fact that I almost died, that my brother almost died-"

"Of course not, but you might want to consider being selfish enough to forgive him."

She gave an angry little smirk. "Like you're so forgiving with Victor."

"That's-"

"Different." Kelly finished the thought for him.

"I hate the things he does."

"That makes it better?"

He attempted a half-hearted smile. "I never said it was easy."

Kelly sighed. "Then what are you saying? That I'll feel all warm and fuzzy if I do it?"

"No. I'm saying that because of your healing factor, you're going to live a very long life. Don't give Stan power over those years. He's taken too much from you already."

Kelly sat back in her chair. "You give me too much credit for being evolved."

Creed stood in the middle of the old man's office with his arms crossed. Room was fucking pretentious, even when it was empty. Jimmy was lounging on the sofa, doing his best not to hover. The runt had been unusually quiet, but Creed didn't feel like digging any deeper into that at the moment. He had other things on his mind.

He turned when he heard the door open. "Took you long enough."

"It's Sunday. We're a bit more informal around here on the weekends."

Creed stared down at him. "Well good for you." He walked over to the window and looked out. "We gotta talk about the frail."

"Really?" He moved closer.

"Don't get all excited, it ain't what you think." He didn't turn his head. "How much more has she got to go before she graduates?"

"According to the records I've seen, English Literature and trigonometry. She's been talking about staying?" The last statement held a practiced nonchalance that set Creed's teeth on edge.

He suppressed a growl. "Only to say she don't want to. Course staying here and getting a diploma from here ain't necessarily the same thing, now is it?" He looked down at the old man, looking for any reaction. Creed was certain he saw curiosity crinkle the corners of the old man's eyes. He didn't give a shit about what was causing it. "Bottom line is this, the frail is damn smart, and she deserves better than a fucking GED from whatever state we happen to land in. She won't tell you that because that bastard stepfather of hers has been treating her like she's second rate for so long she believes it. One day she'll figure out it's all bullshit, but until she does I gotta keep reminding her."

A small smile quirked the corner of the old man's mouth. "Even if I could do something about that, what makes you think that I'd be inclined to?"

Creed grinned and sat down in front of the wide desk. "'Cause right now she don't trust you completely, but she's mostly convinced that you're not dangerous to her. I figure you wanna keep it that way and if she gets the idea that you only made the offer to separate her from me, then she'll probably start to think of you as a duplicitous asshole. I'd bet the payment from my next three jobs that you don't want that."

"And you would be only too happy to tell her."

He shrugged. "She's been kept in the dark too damn long. I'll be damned if I'm gonna contribute to that."

Cool eyes appraised him for a long moment. Creed didn't move. "What makes you think that what you want is even possible?"

"'Cause I'm not an idiot. I know what kind of technology you've got here, and I know her. That's all I need."

"If it were possible, it would be more difficult for her instructors to manage. A bit of compensation wouldn't be out of the way."

Creed rolled his eyes. "I ain't gonna owe you shit. What do you want?"

"You have certain talents that, if they were trained in the right direction, could be-"

Jimmy sat up a little straighter. Creed growled. "No. I ain't gonna live my life with the threat of you hangin' over my head."

A flicker through the old man's eyes and the barest hint of it in the air. "That's the first time I've ever been referred to as a threat."

Creed shrugged. "First time for everything."

The old man didn't move. "Perhaps you aren't as willing to sacrifice for this girl as you claim to be."

Creed leaned in close. "You want me to come and work for you? Fine. I'll stay here and act like a good little housebroken cub while the frail gets what she needs. I'll go on all your little missions, wear your ugly ass outfit, the whole nine fucking yards." He grinned, his fangs teasing his lower lip. "Course she'll be finished in a few months. Then she won't need you and I'll still be here, inside your gates with all your precious impressionable students. They'll trust me by then no matter what you say, I'll see to that-"

"What exactly do you propose?"

Creed leaned back in his chair and savored the tang of anger in the air. "You made her the promise, and I propose you honor it. Seems pretty fucking clear that you're trying to weasel out of it now though." He didn't give the old man a chance to respond. "You still taking in charity cases?"

A nod. "I offer a place to deserving young people who are in need."

Creed rolled his eyes. "Well la dee fucking da. Just tell me how many you got."

"Eight."

"Put this together for the frail, you get a year's worth of tuition for all of 'em."

The old man's eyes narrowed, and Creed could see him weighing the value of his services and threats over the value of the cash. Then he rolled over to his desk. "Tuition, room, board and special activities fees for all eight."

"Done." There was no hesitation in Creeds voice.

The old man wrote a figure on a piece of paper. Creed glanced at it. "Got a computer I can use and an account I can put this into or do you want it in small, dirty bills?"

"An account transfer will suffice." He put a small laptop in front of Creed. A few keystrokes later the transaction was complete. The look on his face said he was kicking himself for not asking for more.

"I had expected more...bargaining."

Creed shrugged. "As long as people got enemies, I got more work than I can handle. Tell me how this is gonna go."

"First, does Kelly have reliable access to a computer, a webcam and the internet?"

Creed stared at him for a long moment. "Reliable and secure."

The old man looked at him, a little smile touched his lips. "I wouldn't have expected anything less. We've started a new program recently. Even though students live here, they still miss classes from time to time. We've started video recording all lectures from certain core classes so that students who are ill can get the entire lecture, and students who were present can review. That's already in place for the trigonometry class. I'll make sure that Kelly can participate via video link. It'll be set up by Wednesday."

"The literature class?"

"It's not part of the program, but looking at her previous scores and knowing what she likes to read I don't think she'll have any difficulty with it. She will have to come back here twice for testing. Once for a mid-semester exam and once for a final. The rest can be accomplished at a distance."

Creed smirked. "And you get to keep your hooks in her."

A facsimile of a warm smile. "I wouldn't put it quite like that."

"Course not." Creed smiled back. "She comes back, I come with her."

The smile evaporated. He shook his head. "This is a school. I have to think of the moral well-being of my students as well as-"

"Whatcha think I'm gonna do, fuck her in the foyer? What's so fucking immoral about me being seen in broad daylight with my mate? 'Sides neither one of us is gonna be sleeping here."

Anger flickered over the old man's features. "Then why come with her at all?"

Creed grinned. "'Cause you don't want me to. Makes it seem like you got some kinda reason for wanting to get her alone. Since I'm pretty damn sure you don't wanna fuck her, I figure you want to try and 'persuade' her that she wants to stay, no matter what she happens to want."

"You really think I would-"

He leaned in. "I think you would do just about anything that furthered your own agenda." He got up. "She get textbooks?"

"You sure about this?" Jimmy asked. They were walking toward the ape's office.

Creed stopped. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean she's a kid. You're carrying her school books for Christ's sake."

Creed groaned. "She ain't been a kid since her mother married Stan. 'Sides, how old was your mother when she married your father?"

"Sixteen or seventeen, but that's-"

"Different." Creed finished. He started walking again. "My mother was fifteen when she had me and nineteen when my asshole of a father beat her to death. Age don't mean shit."

"I suppose the fact that times are different now don't mean shit either," Jimmy said.

Creed stared at the smaller man. "Times ain't that different."

"Oh come on, even you-"

"Even I what? Strong female like her can do damn near anything, but none of it'll make her happy 'less she's got an alpha male who ain't afraid to show her she ain't in charge all the time. Men have always been good at collecting shit and I'm better than most at that. Didn't realize it was all just shit 'til I had her. I don't see what's so different about that."

Jimmy paused in front of the ape's office door, an eyebrow quirked curiously.

"What?" Creed only stopped long enough to shift the books to his other arm.

The ape stood when the door opened. The frail was resting on her hip with her feet drawn up under her in the chair. She smiled at him.

"Don't you ever knock?" The ape almost growled.

Creed grinned. "Not when my frail is on the other side of the door." He looked at her. "You finished?"

"Yes." She walked over to him, her eyes fixed on the books. "What're those?"

He shrugged. "You're gonna need textbooks for your classes."

She stopped and stared at him. Anger and something akin to pain or betrayal crossed her face. Her scent was a muddle of all of those spiced with confusion. "I said I didn't want to stay."

"You think I'm gonna leave you here you're fucking nuts. You gonna stand there all day or are you gonna come with me so I can explain?"

Kelly balanced on the edge of the bed Victor wasn't currently occupying and wondered if his penchant for napping was part of his feline nature, or if he simply took the opportunity to sleep when he found it. The reason wasn't all that important to her. It was a chance to be close to him.

A snore rumbled through his chest, his fingers twined loosely in her hair. For a time, that and the feeling of his skin against hers was all there was in the world. Then she thought of the stack of books on the nightstand behind her. She'd almost cried when he told her and now tears welled up again. She appreciated the chance to finish, but more than that she was glad to be able to come back here.

She couldn't tell him that, not in those words. For all of his explosions of ego and brash posturing, she knew that Victor feared losing her to this place and the people in it. She couldn't see how that would ever happen, not in the the way he thought it would. Living under the weight of rules and the scrutiny of so many others, seemed like an anemic existence at best, a maddening struggle at worst. Cassie wasn't quite the same as the rest, but she had become a stranger in the intervening years. Still, something inside her needed a connection to Cassie and the others, even if she didn't fully trust them. She didn't have the words to explain that to Victor, and reassurances of loyalty would only upset him more.

Victor growled in his sleep, his hand tightened in her hair. Kelly arched against him, rubbing her bare skin against his. The low rumble trailed off into a deep moan. His fingers loosened. She smiled. The rest of the world was confusing. This made sense. Kelly closed her eyes.

Kelly ran through her mental checklist while she pulled the sheets out of the dryer. Everything was packed. The place was cleaner than when she found it. She folded the pillowcases quickly, then spread the fitted sheet out on the bed upside down and started folding the fitted sides in so that it was a flatter rectangle. Kelly tried not to dwell on the uncertainty of the rest of it. She sharpened the folds of the sheet and started to bring the corners together. Of the places she knew of, Chicago was probably the best possibility. The place was like a comfortable fortress, suitable for hiding out for a weekend or surviving a plague of zombies. Probably. She smirked as she folded the sheet into a careful square.

The house in Maine was more luxurious and they both more comfortable there, but the land was so expansive and there were so many ways in. She doubted the security system was as simple as it looked, but it still didn't seem like the best place. Of course that didn't count all the other places she didn't know about yet. She probably never would know about all of them.

She spread the flat sheet out and smoothed it. The fact that she had a good idea of where they were going this time didn't cure her nervousness, or the ache that had started in her heart. She brought the corners of the sheet together and tried to focus on the fact that she would be back.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Victor was standing in the doorway. Curiosity had overtaken annoyance for the moment.

She glanced down at the bed. "Finishing up folding the sheets. I couldn't leave them bloody and-"

He walked into the room and pointed at the bed. "That's how you do it?"

She shrugged a little. "Well, yeah. My arms aren't long enough to just fold them the regular way."

He rolled his eyes. "Get over there and pick up that end." He grabbed the foot of the sheet. She picked up the other end. "You could've just left it."

She brought the corners together when he did. "Left them like they were? Whoever saw them would think that-"

"Frail, nothing either one of us ever does is gonna change what they think about me."

"Do we have to reinforce it?" She brought the edges of the sheet toward him and took the edges he was holding.

His eyebrows drew together. For a moment, Kelly thought she'd angered him. Then he smirked, the tips of his fangs poking at his lower lip. "Too fuckin' much. This the last thing you got to do or you got some kinda list of useless shit?"

Kelly stacked the folded sheets on the bed. "This was the last thing. It's almost six-thirty, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "So? Conlon'll wait."

Her heart started to pound. "He's here?"

"He called me from the gate just before I came in here."

Kelly took a deep breath and looked around the room. She carefully avoided his eyes.

He stood behind her and wrapped one heavy arm around her shoulders. "You gonna bawl?"

She smiled a little and rested her head against his bicep. "Maybe."

He bumped his head against hers. "C'mon."

Kelly followed him out into the kitchen. He handed her her coat from the hook by the door. A sharp knock made her jump.

Victor opened to door. "Can't wait to get rid of me, can you runt?"

"You know what they say about fish and relatives." Logan grabbed her suitcase.

"I dunno, when you remember to take a shower you smell half tolerable most of the time."

Jimmy fixed a flat stare on him, then he looked at Kelly. "You have everything?"

She gave a smile that wavered more than she had hoped for. "Yes, thank you."

He started out the door. Victor grabbed his own bags with one hand and grasped Kelly's arm with the other, leading her out into the cold evening. The walk down the dark path seemed to take even longer than usual, but once the emerged into the bright moonlight in the driveway, Kelly could see Conlon talking with Professor Xavier. Cassie stood close by. Even from a distance, Kelly tell that her friend was close to tears.

"Conlon, get the back open." Victor headed toward a dark-colored SUV. Conlon said something to the professor and trotted over to the back of the vehicle. Victor and Logan followed. For a minute Kelly couldn't move. She took a deep breath and walked over to the professor.

He smiled at her and offered his hand. Kelly took it. "I can't say that I'm pleased to see you go, but I am very pleased we were able to help you recover."

"I don't know how to thank you." She smiled a little and glanced back at the three men standing by the SUV. Conlon and Logan were making uncomfortable small talk. Victor was watching her. She looked back at the professor. "I know this wasn't exactly on your to-do list."

He chuckled. "No, but opportunities are usually unexpected. Victor told you that you'll be returning here in a few weeks?"

She nodded. "He told me. I appreciate the chance."

"It's my pleasure. I want you to know that my door is always open to you."

Kelly's smile was forced. She took her hand away. "Hank said the same thing."

"Kelly you have every right to decide what you want from your life. Just know that this is a place of respite as well as a place of learning. Sometimes we all need to spend a little time with ourselves."

There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, but to Kelly it was too practiced to be fully believable. She nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

He smiled. "That's all I ask."

Kelly looked at Cassie. The other girl's lip was trembling. That was all it took. The tears that Kelly had been holding back started to stream down her cheeks. She hugged Cassie and held on tight.

"Sophie and Lucy wanted to come," Cassie said. "They weren't allowed."

Kelly nodded. She didn't trust her voice.

Creed leaned back against the side of the vehicle and watched the scene unfold in front of him. The old man was talking about opportunities. Creed knew exactly what opportunity that was too, but the frail didn't need to know she'd been a bargaining chip. From her posture, he could tell that the frail was on her guard too. The wind was blowing the wrong way to tell anything from her scent. The fact that she pulled her hand away spoke volumes though. A slight smile touched the corners of his lips.

The frail moved away from the old man to the blond girl. He knew they were both crying. It might have been touching if the old bastard wasn't using the girl as emotional manipulation. The girl didn't know it and he was pretty sure the frail didn't either. Something else he'd keep from her. Wouldn't work. That kind of shit was most effective when you used a family member, a threat and salted it with some blood and screaming for effect. This whole 'look what you'll be missing' shit wasn't going to do anything except draw this out.

Course the old man might be counting on that too. It'd make him look like an ass if he pulled the frail away. Plant that little seed of doubt in the frail's mind that he might be exactly the kind of bastard they kept saying he was. He took a deep breath and waited.

"Gettin' impatient?" Jimmy asked.

Creed didn't have to look at his brother to hear the smirk in his voice.

"Nope. Just trying to figure out why your boss would let one of his precious students breathe the same air as me."

"You're sure he had an ulterior motive? She's Kelly's best friend."

Creed fixed a flat look on his brother. "He's breathing, ain't he?"

The frail pulled away from the blond and started walking toward him.

Creed smiled a little. He stared at the old man. The old man stared back. Even at a distance he could see the old man's eyes narrow for a flicker of a second. Kelly wiped her eyes and walked faster. She smiled at him, then at Conlon.

"I thought you were dead," she said.

Conlon smiled. "I thought the same thing about you. We're both tougher than we look I guess."

"You two wanna be alone?" Creed put a little growl into the words. She would know it wasn't as serious as it sounded. Conlon might not, but he didn't give a shit about that.

She smiled at him. "No." She turned to Jimmy. Her smile changed to something less intimate. "I'm glad I got the chance to meet you."

He nodded and started to walk away.

"Runt!"

Jimmy turned. "What?"

Creed shrugged. "You're a fucking self-righteous pain in the ass, but you're less of a pain in the ass than I remember."

A smile twitched the corner of Jimmy's mouth. "You too, brother." He turned his back and walked back toward the old man.

Creed looked at the frail. "C'mon." He looked at Conlon. "You're driving." He opened the back door of the SUV and Kelly got in. He followed.

Kelly wouldn't let herself look back as they started down the long driveway. As the gates swung open before them, the ache that had been building in her heart turned into a sharp pain that took her breath away. She looked out the side window and reminded herself that she would be in touch with Cassie and she would even be coming back here. In her mind, she replayed the lectures about the dangers of being with Victor and the shocked stares. She reminded herself of the way he'd been treated like a dangerous animal and then told herself that there was probably plenty more that she didn't know about because of the length of time she'd been in a coma. Staying would have meant losing Victor, and as much as driving away hurt, losing him would have been unbearable.

She took a deep breath and watched the inky scenery slipping by.

"You traveled with Stan, right?" Victor was the first one to speak. Kelly wasn't sure how long it had been, but she knew that her emotions were finally under control.

She turned toward him. "Sometimes. Mostly just for local stuff."

"So you didn't fly?"

"Fly?" Kelly gave a short laugh. "Even if he wasn't too cheap, Stan thought the government kept files on people who flew."

Victor looked at her. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Kelly shrugged. "I don't know. I never could figure it out either."

Victor shook his head. "Crazy motherfucker. Anyways, we're flying to Chicago."

Kelly's heart started to pound again. "I can't!"

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because you need ID to even get close to plane. I don't have that, and even if I had the documents to get one, I'm legally dead." She fixed her eyes on the edge of the pocket on the back of Conlon's seat.

"Thought about getting you a fake, but a good fake takes time. 'Sides, all that don't mean shit unless you're going commercial. I fucking hate flying commercial and I just spent too damn long cooped up with other people."

Victor was silent, but Kelly could feel him watching her. She kept her eyes firmly on the pocket. Even in the dim light, she could tell it was poorly designed. Probably something that had been added later for the convenience of passengers. It made her certain that this was a rental. Victor didn't plan for passengers. She tried to put together what he was saying, but nothing made sense. "Then, how-?"

"First thing I learned when I went into business for myself was that you always do a little extra for the customers. Go that extra mile. Means they owe you, and stacked up favors always come in handy." His head was tilted toward the window, but his eyes were turned toward her. "About eight months ago, I took care of a couple little matters for a guy who owns a private jet. Haven't had a good enough reason to call in the favor until now."

Kelly stroked the side of his hand with her little finger. He turned to look at her. She smiled a little, so did he.

They rode in silence the rest of the way to a small airport. As soon as they turned down the the access road, the feeling of arriving at that other airport flooded Kelly's mind. The desperate fear pumped through her with every rapid beat of her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut against it.

He gripped her hand tight enough to bring tears to her eyes. It pulled her out of the past and out of her own head. She took a deep breath, then nodded at him. He eased his grip on her hand, but didn't let go.


	29. Proofs

**I really wish writing could be my full time job. Unfortunately it's not and that's why these chapters sometimes take so long to put out. I really hope you all enjoy though.**

**Thanks for reading :)**

**psyche b**

29. Proofs

The honed marble-lined steam shower in the Chicago apartment was nearly as big as the entire bathroom had been in the guest house. The water got hotter, it was driven by more pressure and it emerged from several body sprays. They didn't hit her in the right places, so she turned them off. Shampoo, conditioner and shower gel was on the shelf. Her pink shower puff and his loofa sponge hung on the hook below. It was all familiar. All comforting. Almost enough to make her believe that the last few weeks had been a bad dream. Almost.

Kelly stepped under the water and let it work at the knot in the back of her neck. She closed her eyes. The aching exhaustion had hit her as soon as they stepped into the elevator. It was an object lesson in the weight of nervousness and loss and uncertainty. Her mind drifted back to what Hank had said about hatred and she wondered if that had added to the burden she was carrying. There was no way to tell. She'd hated Stan for so long, the emotion was intertwined with her DNA. Of course, recent events had proven that DNA wasn't exactly set in stone either.

She sighed. It was too much to try and sort out at that moment.

She tilted her face up to the water, then put her head down again. She heard the bathroom door open. Victor walked in and started to undress. It was one more little nibble of normalcy. She took the shampoo bottle off the shelf. He opened the glass door and took the bottle out of her hand.

"Your hair's gotten longer." He handed the bottle back to her.

She put the it back on the shelf and stood with her back to him. "You haven't noticed until now?"

His fingers worked the shampoo through her hair, only the tips of his claws scraped lightly against her scalp. Pleasant shivers coursed down her spine. Kelly moaned softly. He chuckled. "You keep it all braided and pinned up, 'cept when you're in bed. When you're in bed, I ain't thinkin' about your hair."

Kelly blushed. "I'll get it cut soon. Cassie showed me a picture of herself from last year. Her hair was short then. She said it would look good on me-"

"No." His thumbs massaged the back of her neck. "I like your hair long."

Kelly knew she should have been upset by his pronouncement. The relaxation that had spread through her body had gone too deep. She hadn't been entirely sure about the haircut anyway. She smiled a little. "I have to get it trimmed at least."

"Few inches is okay." He lowered his hands and Kelly stepped under the spray again. He took the conditioner and stroked it through the strands of her freshly rinsed hair. She took his shower gel and loofa and started to work the thick suds over his shoulders and chest. "I know you hate it here."

She looked up at him. "I don't hate it here."

"You tensed up as soon as you walked in the door."

She laced the fingers of one hand with his and moved the rough textured sponge over his arm with the other hand. "I didn't realize I had, but it's not that I hate it. It's just..." She took his other hand and searched for words.

He lifted her chin so that she was looking up at him again. "Just what?"

She moved behind him. "I don't know how to say it without sounding stupid." She took a deep breath. "It's so big, and no matter how many lights I turn on, there are still these pools of shadow that just linger." Her fingers worked at his heavily muscled shoulders. Her hands weren't strong enough to ease the deeper knots, but some of the tension relaxed. "I know I don't see as well as you do. You probably don't even see them."

He reached back and pulled her in front of him. Kelly rinsed her hair while he put gel on the softer nylon puff. He started at her shoulders and rubbed vigorously.

"I do see 'em. Probably not as many as you do. I don't like 'em either. Coulda fuckin' kicked myself when I realized."

"You didn't notice when you bought the place?"

He laughed. "When I bought the place it'd been empty for a couple years. Well, if you don't count the rats and cockroaches and a couple of winos." His hands moved over her back and down over her hips. "Took months to get it livable. The whole time I thought all the wide open space was what I wanted. After about a week with nothing to do, I realized it was too damn big and I'd fucked up the lights."

She turned to look at him. "You didn't though, it's beautiful."

"Came out mostly alright." There was a little smirk in his voice.

"Did you ever live here? For more than a few days at a time I mean."

"Yeah. For six or eight months I was picking up local jobs pretty steady. I always figured I'd get around to fixing it and never did."

The tone for the elevator sounded.

"Who-?"

"Conlon. I sent him out for pizza and shit for breakfast." He reached around and pinched her nipples.

Kelly moaned, a little smile touched her lips. "Dinner'll get cold." She turned and stroked her fingertips over his hardening shaft. Her tongue flickered over his nipple.

Something between a growl and purr rumbled through his chest. "So?" His fingers laced into her hair. "I like cold pizza." His mouth found hers in an aggressive kiss.

Kelly surrendered. The exhaustion that had suffused her whole being only a few moments before had been replaced with a need that set every nerve on fire. The dance was familiar to both of them, and as always Victor took the lead. He lifted her with one arm around her waist. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. Her mouth found the place where his neck and shoulder joined. The taste of his skin was obscured for a moment by the soap and water. She moaned when the masculine flavor of him came through.

He growled. His claws bit into her hip. Her teeth scraped his skin with a teasing touch. One large hand cradled the back of her head, holding her still. Kelly's nails bit into his back. The world spun as he slammed her back against the wall, entering her in the same harsh movement.

She wanted him. Needed him. None of that was a match for feral passion and heavy muscle. His intensity brought tears to her eyes. Her pained cry bounced off the walls, even as her arms and legs tightened around him. He was still. A growl rumbled through his chest, but his lips and tongue teased her neck and shoulder gently.

Shocked tension began to drain away. She nipped lightly at his earlobe and felt him grin against the side of her neck. He moved again with as much intensity as before. The slow tenderness of the night before had been replaced by a claiming, bruising need. Tears streamed down her cheeks even as her orgasm began to build. Her legs tightened around him, her nails bit into his shoulders. The dull scratches drew a dangerous growl from deep in his chest.

One large hand crept around her throat, the other shifted to her hips, supporting her body. His eyes locked with hers. Lust and danger swirled in those deep pools. Kelly's breath caught in her throat. Her inner muscles tightened around him.

"Something making you nervous, little girl?" He squeezed her throat lightly. His hips rocked slowly. Even though he was barely moving, he was hitting all the right places.

Kelly couldn't speak, so she nodded instead.

He shook his head, a wide grin put his fangs were in full view.. "Uh-uh frail. I wanna _hear_ you."

"Y-yes." A little more pressure on her throat. Not enough to cut off her breathing, just enough to make her feel like it was. Her hands fluttered over his back and shoulders like frightened birds.

"Awww." His hips punctuated the sarcasm. It was almost enough to push Kelly over the edge. "What could possibly be makin' you nervous?"

"Your...your hand."

He leaned forward and sniffed the side of her neck. "Don't smell so nervous." He inhaled again, deeper this time. His hips rocked slowly, letting her feel every thick inch. Kelly started to tremble. "Smell like you're about to cum." His tongue teased her skin. "Are you about to cum for me frail?"

The world was standing still while she found her voice. He kept her just on the edge. She knew he could keep her on that edge for as long as he wanted. "Yes. Please, I need to."

A low purring growl. "Oh I know you do. Ask me again, real nice."

Between the maddening pressure of his thumb and the painful need, Kelly could barely form the words. When she did, all that came out was a pleading whimper. "Please."

He stopped moving. He hand drifted down over her body and he leaned in closer. "You're lucky I'm such a nice guy." His claws dug into her hip as he drove her over the edge. Kelly's cry reverberated off the walls.

At first, Kelly thought the white noise of the shower was just part of the humming afterglow. The pressure of her knees on the tiles came through next, then the sting in her hip. Her body was still cradled by his though. His hands moved over the small over her back. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Concern drew his eyebrows together. His thumb stroked over her cheek, just under her left eye. Kelly remembered the tears from the beginning. She stroked his chest. Her lips brushed over the hollow of his throat. She looked up at him again. This time, a little smile curled the corner of his lips.

"Water bill is gonna be un-fucking-believable." His voice was a low rumble.

Kelly gave a short laugh. "I was just in here to take a shower." Her voice was soft.

"So it's my fault, huh?" His fingers drifted down over her bottom.

Her finger teased the tip of his nipple. "Course."

He wrapped his fingers in her hair. She looked up at him, his little smile mirrored her own. "You're fucking lucky I'm in a good mood." The tender tone didn't match the words. He let her go. "C'mon, I'm hungry."

* * *

Creed woke with a start. For a long moment the expansive, dimly lit room was unfamiliar to him. The relaxation of sleep was replaced by adrenaline and readiness to fight. Recognition came a heartbeat later. He took a deep breath. The loft in Chicago. The brick-lined barn of a place that would serve as a comfortable cage for the frail until he could end the current threat permanently. He could deal with the place, but he fucking hated the purpose. Made what Jimmy and the old man thought about the frail being a captive seem almost true. That pissed him off even more. Still, they were both safe enough in the quiet moment. The pumping adrenaline subsided enough for his claws to retract. He looked down at the frail.

She was sleeping next to him with her head on his thigh and had been since about an hour after she cleaned up the dinner dishes. He remembered her starting to shiver at around midnight and he toyed with the idea of taking her up to bed then. He liked how she felt next to him though. He'd pulled the throw from the back of the sofa and put it over her instead. She'd mumbled something and settled again.

He figured he had too. He glanced at the nearly silent TV. Lucy and Ethel were attempting to wallpaper a room and failing miserably. He smiled a little, halfway picturing his redhead doing something similar. The frail wasn't much for movies or soap operas or shit like that, but she loved the classics. He could take it or leave it. It was always too sweet, always too fucking perfect and he never saw what was so goddamn funny about it. Course now he was starting to get some of the jokes. Was probably just because he was getting old, or senile or some shit like that. He turned off the set and looked down at the sleeping girl. Any other night, he might have just stayed there with her. Tonight, he wanted to stretch out.

Creed shifted the frail's head. She moaned and drew her knees up closer to her chest. He lifted her, leaving the throw wrapped around her body, and headed for the stairs. Halfway there, her eyes fluttered open. He felt her tense as she looked around.

" 'S alright frail. Just goin' to bed."

"What time is it?" Her voice was soft and tangled with sleep.

"Little after four." He set her on the bed. She started to unwrap herself from the throw.

"Late." She managed to get free and pull the covers down.

He pulled his shirt off and watched her pull his shirt off over her head. "Or early. Depends on your perspective I suppose."

She pulled the blankets up over her naked skin and slid over, leaving room for him. "What's your perspective?" From her voice, he could tell that she was mostly asleep.

"I don't give a shit one way or the other." He got in next to her. "I just want to stretch out in a bed that ain't too small for me." He pulled her into his chest. She laced her fingers with his. A deep purr rumbled through his chest. He didn't even think about trying to control it.

* * *

When Creed woke up again he was stretched out over half the bed. The frail had drifted over to the other side, her arms and legs flung wide. One of her hands was still resting on his wrist. Every so often her fingers would twitch, or her foot would quiver and something about that made her seem so fucking vulnerable. He shifted closer to her. She moaned and moved closer to him, one small hand found his chest.

She'd wake up in a few minutes. When she did, she'd smile at him and ask him what he wanted for breakfast and the day would start. Meaning she would do her thing and he would do his and they would be apart. Together, but apart. She arched into him. As far as he was concerned, the day could wait a little while longer. He stroked the outside of her hip, exploring the expanse of silky skin. A little smile curled the corners of her lips, but she didn't open her eyes.

A smile touched his lips as well. "Playin' possum, huh?"

She looked up at him. Her sea-glass eyes carrying a glimmer of mischief. "No, just enjoying the moment."

"What makes you think I wasn't?" His hand drifted down over her thigh and back up to her hip.

A little shrug. "I just figured if I said anything you'd want breakfast or," a blush stained her cheeks. "Something else. Just felt good to be close like this."

He moved onto his back. She moved with him and rest against his shoulder, one arm around his waist. "Coulda sworn you liked that 'somethin' else'."

"I love that something else. Not the same as just being close though." Her voice was still soft with sleep. Her body was molded to his.

His claws drifted through her hair. "Fuckin' I understand." He shrugged instead of finishing the thought.

She laughed softly. "I'd say 'understand' is an understatement." She looked up at him for a long moment, then kissed his shoulder. "You've got good instincts for the rest though."

He chuckled. His hand drifted over the curve of her back. The empty grumble from his stomach broke the moment.

The frail laughed. "Eggs and sausages?"

"He didn't get any bacon?" He let her up and handed her the olive drab shirt she'd been wearing the night before.

She pulled on a pair of her homemade socks with pinks and purples shifting and fading into each other. He knew they were her favorite pair. "He did, but we had bacon yesterday. I thought that you might like a change."

"So? Yesterday we were livin' on the old man's rations. Make both."

She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled over her shoulder. "Both it is." She picked up an elastic band from the nightstand and started twisting her hair into a loose braid as she walked down the stairs.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Only she could make just rolled out of bed look so fucking good and she had no goddamn idea of the effect she had on him. He got up and pulled on a pair of sweats. He'd tell her after breakfast. Well, his cock would tell her, but she'd get the message. The little smile turned into a hungry smirk.

* * *

Kelly stretched out on the sofa with a copy of _The Grapes of Wrath._ She'd read it once already, but the first five chapters and a list of questions were her first assignment. Describe the characters, situations, how the author sets the tone, blah, blah, blah. The usual ways that teachers managed to suck all the life and enjoyment out of a great story. Maybe it was a good thing the assignment was so straightforward. Her mind was decidedly unfocused.

The emptiness of the room was a looming, leering presence reminding her that Victor was gone. She knew that it was ridiculous to be so nervous. Sure she was alone in the apartment, but Conlon was right downstairs. Victor had changed all the codes twice since they arrived. No one could get in and even if someone managed it, he'd turned on another alert that would signal when the garage door opened. All she had to do was look at the monitor to see who it was. They couldn't get to the upper floors without the elevator and Victor had taught her how to keep it from descending. He wouldn't have left her if it were unsafe. Now all she needed was to repeat that to herself another million or so times. Or more. At least until Victor got back.

She looked over at her phone. Calling Victor wasn't an option. She never knew what to say to him on the phone anyway and that hadn't really changed. Neither of them felt the need to fill silence with pointless conversation. If she was honest with herself, his voice on the phone wouldn't make her feel much better. It would make it even more obvious that he was away from her.

Cassie would be in class.

Granna would talk to her all day, if Kelly was willing to talk about what happened while she in the bunker. Every detail of what happened while she was in the bunker. Over and over again. She wasn't ready to think about most of it, let alone rehash it. Just thinking about that conversation was making her stomach turn.

She picked up the book again. She could relate to the Joads. The pain of being forced from the familiarity of home to a frightening future. The desire to get to somewhere better. To work and to live normal lives. The desperate need for hope amidst the ugly business of survival.

Kelly was getting absorbed when the garage tone sounded. Kelly put the book down and ran to the monitor, her heart pounding, her chest tight. A dark colored sedan pulled in. A few minutes later, Victor got out and looked up at the camera. Kelly took a deep breath and felt the tension start to drain away. Victor's grainy, black and white image moved to the back of the car. She folded the throw and straightened her stack of books on the coffee table.

The elevator tone sounded.

"You spend all fucking morning fussing around?" He set a dark blue Best Buy bag on a chair and picked up the plastic grocery bags. The scent of Chinese food drifted out to her.

Kelly reached for some of the bags. He pulled them away. "Just take the yellow one. It's got lunch in it."

Kelly took the yellow bag and brought it over to the dining table. While he loaded the fridge with perishables, Kelly set the table and took General Tso's Chicken and pork fried rice out of paper cartons and put it into serving bowls. She put the egg rolls on a plate. By the time he was finished, Kelly had lunch set up.

He looked at her, then at the table. "Well shit, I turn my back for five minutes and you go and make everything all civilized."

She laughed. "I can put it back in the cartons if you want."

He gave a little shrug. "Now that you got it all in bowls and everything. Might as well eat it." He grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down.

For a few minutes, he ate silently, then washed it down with a long swallow of beer.

Kelly felt tension start to drain out of her shoulders. For the first time, she realized that she was starving. She dug into the spicy chicken.

In a way, it had been a test. He could have sent Conlon out, stayed home and kept the frail naked and exhausted and on the brink of fucking dehydration. That's what Creed wanted and that was probably what the frail wanted too. It wasn't what she needed though. She needed to know that she would be alright on her own and he needed to know it too. Judging from the thick odor of unsettled fear that was competing with the spicy scent of the food, it hadn't exactly been a roaring success. She had managed though, and that was something.

He glanced over at her. Her small frame was a study in concealed tension. It was starting to ease, but he could still see it in the curve of her neck and the way her right leg twitched from time to time. She was trying to hide it from him. She always did. Not that it did a damn bit of good, even if he couldn't see it, he could smell it.

This time, she was probably trying to hide it from herself too. He scented the air again. The frail's calmer scent was creeping in, the peppery scent of the food, and a hint of some sort of cleaner. He figured it had to be coming from the bathroom. Anyplace else and the scent would have been stronger.

"Gonna wear out those tiles." He took more of the chicken.

A smile touched her lips. One shoulder shrugged delicately. "We left it kind of a mess last night."

He looked at her. "Not an all morning kind of a mess."

"No." She took another bite of rice. "After you left I got things straightened up and then I did my homework for the Lit class."

He'd looked at her schedule before he left. "That was quick."

"I've already read the novel. The rest of it is just kind of dull so far. I still have to catch up, but the first part of the class was just readings from a textbook about theme and symbolism and all that stuff. If I work on it tonight and tomorrow I can probably get through it. Frankly, I was expecting something harder but I suppose I should be thankful that the semester only started a couple of weeks ago."

His curiosity was piqued. "That's it?"

She nodded. "I guess it would be more in depth if there was a lecture or discussion along with it. Still, doesn't seem worth the money."

He looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowed. Creed hadn't mentioned the financial part of his little deal. He doubted many people outside that room knew about it. "Money?"

Her eyes were direct. The tang of nervousness had all but disappeared. "Professor Xavier made his offer to keep me there. He said it was to give me time to recover or to protect me from you, but that's not what he really wanted."

Creed sat back in his chair and studied her. "What'd he want?" This he had to hear.

"Something from you. I'm not sure what exactly." Her tone was matter of fact.

Creed gave a short laugh. "Fucker's been tryin' to get rid of me for years."

"Maybe, but an engineered healing factor doesn't exactly make me stand out in that crowd. If either one of us would be useful to him, it would be you. If I were there, he'd have something you want."

He smirked. "You don't believe in all that goodness in his heart?"

She laughed. "I believe he gets something out of everything he does, and if the payoff isn't big enough, he doesn't do it."

He grinned. "Don't think I'm charming enough to get him to change his mind?"

A little smirk. "I think you always find a way to get what you want. It took me forever to figure out why he took me in in the first place. Once I realized it was never about me, everything else got a lot clearer. Whatever you paid him must have been more valuable than your services."

For a long moment he just looked at her, then he shook his head. "You don't miss a fucking thing, do you?"

She laughed. "That still surprises you?" She got up and headed toward the kitchen.

"Now what? You forget the finger bowls or somethin'?"

"No, but I noticed that you're almost out of beer."

He watched her cross the room. She'd put on a pair of jeans at some point while he was gone, but she was still wearing his shirt. The sleeveless garment came down to the middle of her thighs and hid the shape of her ass. The sway of her hips couldn't be concealed. He felt himself starting to harden. He sat back to enjoy the view as she bent over and got the beer out of the fridge and came back to him. He let her set the beer down, then he grabbed her wrist.

"You know I don't give a shit about it."

He saw confusion cross her face. "About what?"

"The money." He shrugged and let her go. "Couple jobs, I'll have it all back."

She nodded and sat down again without meeting his eyes. The money did bother her, but she'd get over that on her own. The way she saw herself in all this bothered him more. She'd been a pawn for Stan and Cavallo and even when she was half dead she was a pawn for an old man in a fucking wheelchair. He couldn't even tell her that she was wrong and it pissed him off. The fact that he didn't know how to fix it pissed him off even more.

"What?"

"Nothin'." He took most of the chicken and put the last couple of pieces on her plate. She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. "Don't even try it. You were fussing around here all through breakfast. You barely ate a thing."

* * *

Kelly cleaned up lunch and tried to keep her eyes off the large bag.

Before he left, Kelly had tried to convince him that she didn't really need her own computer. He'd set up a profile on his laptop and if he left and took it with him, the system in the apartment had two tower units. One that ran the security system and one for his use. He'd listened and then told her that he was getting her one anyway. She knew it was only partly generosity, but the longer that bag sat there, the more curious she became.

"You gonna stare at it all damn day or are you gonna open it?" There was a smirk in his voice.

She blushed. "I had to get things cleaned up."

"You been fussing for twenty minutes." He was sitting on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table. His right foot twitched. He was just as anxious for her to open it as she was. Kelly dried her hands and brought the bag over next to him. He looked away. She pulled out a wide, shallow box and struggled to open it. He muttered something under his breath and sliced through the tape with one claw. She unwrapped layers of packing material until she got to the computer inside. The lid started out as a bright pink and then faded to purple.

Kelly's eyes widened. "It's pink and purple!"

Creed grinned. "Yeah. You shoulda seen the look on that geeky little fucker's face when I told him what I wanted and said it had to be pink. For a minute I thought he was gonna shit right there in the middle of the store. This was the closest they had."

She laughed. "It's perfect. Can I try it?"

"Not yet. I gotta install some shit and make sure no one is gonna find their way onto my network."

She looked up at him. "The security system-"

"Safe." His tone was certain. "Nothing else is connected to it." He pointed to her computer. "This ain't gonna be connected to anything else that's here. Anybody manages to trace a signal, which I doubt, they ain't gonna get anything other than your school work and whatever else you happen to keep." He grinned at her. "Gonna thank me?"

She set the box aside. "Sure, but that sounds like you were expecting something specific." She knelt next to him on the sofa.

"Been watching you shake that little ass of yours all afternoon. Whaddya think I'm expecting?" He pulled her into a deep kiss.

Kelly's fingers deftly worked the buttons of his shirt. A soft growl vibrated his chest when she stroked his skin. She smiled against his mouth. "What if I wasn't planning to thank you that way?" Her mouth trailed down over his jaw.

He reached for her, but his hands stopped just clear of her shoulders. "What were you planning then frail?"

Her fingertips floated over the contours of his muscles while her mouth traced over the front of his throat. Only the very tip of her tongue touched his skin. "Thought I would write you a letter."

He tilted his head back even more. His fingers twined in her hair and a laugh rumbled through his chest. "What're you planning to say in this letter?"

Her mouth moved down lower, taking a leisurely path down to the edge of his ribcage where she nipped lightly. "Dear Mister Creed." Another light nip.

His back arched. "Mister Creed?" The words were followed with a soft pleasure growl.

She smiled and traced his navel with her tongue. "It's a very formal letter." Her fingers worked his belt and the button of his jeans. She could feel how hard he was already.

"Mister Creed." He pushed the jeans down over his hips. "Think I might like you bein' formal."

The sight of him so thick and hard brought an achy heat to her lower tummy. Her eyes were on his, a little smile was on her lips. She let her tongue make a slow circuit around the swollen head of his erection. "Mister." Her tongue made the same slow trip in the other direction. "Creed."

His eyes were closed, his head resting back on the arm of the sofa. "Fucking love how you say that."

The musky scent and salty flavor of his skin brought out a lustful avarice in Kelly. She took him into her mouth, using her tongue and hands with shameless abandon, working the length of his shaft.

A deep growling purr rumbled through his chest. One hand wrapped in her hair, guiding the movements of her head. Each time he was in the back of her throat, Kelly moaned deeply. His groans of pleasure retreated into the background. The blood was rushing in her ears, hiding his moans of pleasure, she felt every twitch of the organ in his mouth though. Her head moved faster, her tongue rubbing the underside.

The hand moved out of her hair to her shoulder. He grabbed a handful of her shirt, his claws raking over the back of her shoulder hard enough to make Kelly whimper. His legs tensed. His stomach went rigid and his back arched.

"'Nough." It was more of a growl than a word he punctuated it with a hard shove that sent Kelly off the edge of the sofa.

Before Kelly could react, he was standing over her, a dangerous grin on his face. He kicked off his jeans. "Think you been in control long enough little girl." His leaking member was a little above her eye level. A fresh rush of need settled hot and heavy between her legs. He knelt on one knee in front of her, one hand twisted in the back of her hair, holding her head still. "You got ten seconds to strip," He kissed her hard. "Kneel on the sofa facing the back," A nip on her lower lip. "Spread your legs and show me your fucking pussy." His lips played with hers. Kelly reached out with her tongue, but he pulled away and grinned. "Uh uh frail. Take too long I'm gonna tear up your pussy so bad you ain't gonna walk right for a fucking week."

He said it with a smile, but it was a predatory grin that sent shivers down her spine. He got up and stood over her again, arms crossed, eyes boring into her. She never doubted that he meant it. Nervous adrenaline pushed needy excitement to a new level.

She pulled the shirt off easily enough, but the jeans were more a struggle. She fumbled with the button and when she finally got that undone she struggled to shed them without falling. He walked around her, staring at the contours of her body and clucking his tongue.

"Damn. I liked that tight little pussy of yours too."

"I'm trying." She knelt on the sofa with her pants hanging on one ankle. She ventured a glance back at him.

He tugged them off and tossed them aside, then he pushed her forward so that her hands were resting on the back of the sofa. She spread her legs and pressed the arch of her back downward, her heart pounding the whole time. "So? Told you what I wanted." He stroked her back from her neck down to her bottom, then down between her legs. Kelly moaned. "All's you had to do was to do it. Nothin' hard about that, now is there?" The side of his hand brushed over her pouting lower lips.

Kelly whimpered and closed her eyes. "N-No, but-"

"But you want me to overlook it." His knuckle traveled over her wet slit. She moaned and pressed back against his finger. His other hand moved up her back to wrap lightly around her throat. "Can't hear you frail." A little growl added danger to the statement.

"Yes." She gasped. "Please."

"Please what?" A little more pressure against the center of her pleasure. It wasn't quite enough to push her over the edge, but it was more than enough to cloud her mind. Kelly closed her eyes and tried to sort through what he wanted while her hips rocked against his hand.

"Please, Mister Creed." The words were a moan.

He leaned over her. "Fucking love how you say that." He pressed the wide head of his erection against her entrance. She reached back and guided him in.

Their union was slow, deliberate perfection. Threats of violence were replaced with mutual need. His body was over hers. His fingers resting lightly on the front of her throat, the other hand on her breast. Kelly moved with him, her inner muscles gripping him, his growls blending with her moans, each one was sharper – needier – than the last. He moved faster, harder, driving the world away. Pleasure closed in and Kelly let herself fall into it.

* * *

Creed lay on his back on the sofa, the frail was on his chest. They were both still naked. She was still flushed from cumming twice in such a short time. He didn't figure he'd ever get sick of seeing her that way. He pushed a lock of her hair out of her face. She smiled and arched against him, her fingers traced over his chest as if she was memorizing the contours of his body.

He didn't figure he'd ever get sick of the way she touched him with those delicate fingers. He could get lost in those little touches, those little sighs. Didn't make a damn bit of sense.

His fingers trailed down her spine. She arched and kissed his shoulder. Fucking frail. Always giving him shit he didn't even know he wanted. A little shiver coursed through her. He found his shirt on the floor and wrapped it around her.

"Gonna make me want to stay here all afternoon." Her voice was soft, dreamy.

"So? 'S early. Even if it gets late, who the fuck cares? I ain't got a schedule for awhile." His fingers trailed through her hair. He some of the deep relaxation start to slip away. And just how the fuck was he supposed to to interpret that? "What?"

"Getting lonely before you're gone."

"Lettin' yourself start worrying about shit." Her skin was silky under his fingertips.

She shook her head a little. "Can't help it. I know it's stupid."

"Nah. Just gotta get used to it again. 'Sides, it ain't like you'll be alone."

"You don't trust Conlon."

A short laugh. "I never did." She looked up at him, he could read the surprise in her face. "Not completely anyway."

"Then why-?"

"Trust people in this business and you end up in a shallow fucking grave or as somebody's goddamn lab experiment. Guarantee you he don't trust me either."

"How can you...do what you do...if you don't trust the people you work with?"

She never asked him about what he did. Never wanted to know the whys or hows. He figured she wanted to avoid the reality of what he was. He looked at her relaxed profile. Curiosity drew her eyebrows together, but there was none of the horror or disgust he'd expected. "I don't fuckin' know. It's more of an agreement based on mutual need and thinly veiled threat. I ain't thrilled with Conlon, but I ain't leavin' until I got some shit together."

The corner of her lips curled into a little smile. "And you hope I'll calm down in that time."

He chuckled. "That too."

Kelly dozed with Victor for awhile, then they both got up and showered. She didn't bother dressing, preferring one of his shirts and pair of warm socks. While he set up her computer she picked up her Lit textbook and started reading. A page and a half in, she was glad she hadn't had to sit through a lecture. Reading it was painful enough. At least she'd have something to do while he was downloading or installing or whatever it was he was doing to her computer.

"You should be good to go," He said after an hour. "Where're you gonna set up?"

"I'd been thinking about that." She set the book aside. "The dining room table has that section of drywall behind it, and no windows."

He thought about that for a minute and smiled. "The blandest place in the whole fucking apartment."

She shrugged. "Just in case anybody's looking."

He nodded. "Lemme know a half hour before dinner's ready. I'm gonna want a shower."

Kelly watched him grab a tape measure from the kitchen drawer and climb up to the loft. He climbed up on the railing. She sat up straighter. "What are you doing?"

"We're gonna be here for awhile. I figured I'd fix the lights." He jumped and pulled himself up onto one of the ceiling beams. Kelly was amazed by his agility and terrified at the same time. A few minutes later he looked down from directly above her. "Did you dust up here?"

The question caught her off guard. "Well, awhile ago."

He groaned. "Tell me you sent Conlon up the ladder to do it."

Kelly squirmed. Even from this distance his gaze was intense. "Well, Conlon did hold the ladder."

"While you climbed it."

She looked up at him and bit her lower lip. "I didn't think he would do it right."

"Frail." He shook his head. "We're gonna talk about this later." He stood up again. She could hear him walk to the first dim spot.

For awhile, all Kelly could focus on was the sound of him moving overhead. She was sure that he was going to lose his footing on the narrow beams and fall down to the hardwood below. When he didn't, Kelly slowly went back to her reading.

* * *

It took Creed less than five minutes to beef up surveillance on Cavallo and Stan. It would take him a hell of a lot longer to decide what to do to the motherfuckers. The project with the lights gave him time to think in relative privacy. It also gave him a good excuse to go out every few days for supplies, leaving the frail alone. Letting her see that she would be alright on her own. She needed to know that.

Creed looked down at the frail. She was in the kitchen, starting to fuss around with dinner. He fucking loved to watch her move. He sat on the beam and watched.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Kelly's life settled in to a comfortable routine. She spent mornings with Victor, sometimes in bed, sometimes just stretched out with each other on the sofa or the floor. From two to three, she attended Trig lecture via webcam while Victor worked on the lights. In that hour, Kelly was convinced that he spent more time watching her, but that wasn't exactly uncomfortable either. In the evening she used Skype to study with Cassie for a few hours. Well, they studied for awhile. The rest of the time she spent getting to know Cassie again and avoiding her questions about where she and Victor were.

When her mind wasn't actively engaged in something, Kelly waited for the other shoe to drop. She knew Victor was going to leave eventually. She knew he was planning something, even though he was doing his best to keep it from her. She pretended she didn't know. He pretended he didn't know she was pretending.

In those quiet times, Hank's words chased bone-jarring hatred around in her head. Every time she so much as thought of Stan's name she felt the tension in her chest and tasted bile in the back of her throat. The longer she thought of him the worse it got. In her heart, she knew it would be that way until she stopped being Stan's victim. Victor would take him out of the world, she had no doubt about that. Kelly knew that only she could remove the cancer of him from her soul.

* * *

Creed sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the clock. Five in the fucking morning and he was sitting there fully clothed while she was sleeping, stretched out and naked next to him. He should either get his ass back in bed or wake her up and ask her what he had to ask her.

That felt too much like drawing her into the dark part of his world. She deserved the opportunity though. Besides, he hadn't told her he was leaving yet.

He put his hand on her bare hip and rubbed until she woke up.

"What?" Her voice was a sleep-addled mumble.

"I need you to wake up, Frail."

He waited until she sat up and started reaching for the light before he turned it on.

"What time is it?" Her voice were clearer now.

"Little after five." He took her arm and pulled her closer.

She snuggled against his chest. Her skin was still warm from sleep. "You're leaving."

"Yeah. For a couple of days." He took a deep breath. "I need to know what you want."

She looked up at him. For a moment he thought she was going to answer. "Want...how?"

"What you want to happen to Cavallo and Stan."

Her eyes widened. "I can't! Even if I knew I couldn't tell you what to do!"

He shook his head. "That's part of it. I can fuck up both of them, drag it out for years or do it quick. If it ain't what you want though, then it don't mean shit." His fingers drifted through her hair.

She relaxed against him again. For a long moment, she was silent, then she looked up at him. "I want to talk to Stan."

That was something unexpected. "And then?"

"After I've said what I need to say, I don't really care as long as he never comes near me or my family ever again."

"Cavallo?"

"He's sick and useless. I don't want to have to look over my shoulder for him or his people." Creed felt her tremble. He pulled her closer, stroking her hair until she relaxed again. "How long will you be gone?"

"'Round four days." He stroked her cheek. She looked up at him. "Lights are fixed."

She smiled. "I know. Thank you."

From the tone of her voice, Creed knew she wasn't talking about the lights. He kissed her lightly, his lips playing with hers for a long moment. "Go back to sleep, frail."

"Want some breakfast before you go?" She did her best to make the question sound casual. He could smell how nervous she was.

He rubbed the back of her neck. "Nah. Too fucking early to eat. I'll get something on the road." He stayed where he was. "'Sides, you need your rest so you can finish your homework."

She gave a little groan. "I hate proofs."

"You hate proofs because you tell yourself you can't do 'em so you don't practice."

She sighed. "I promise I'll do it."

Creed kissed her, then got up and headed down the stairs.


	30. The Lady and The Sabretooth

**Hi Everyone, **

**Not as much of a wait this time. :) I've had some of these scenes is my head for months, it was good to finally get them onto the page. **

**Thank you all so much for reading and a special thank you to those who take time to comment. Knowing people are so into this story keeps me writing.**

**I hope you all enjoy!**

**psyche b**

30. The Lady and the Sabretooth

Creed guided the rusty brown van down the highway with one hand and ate a sausage and egg breakfast sandwich with the other. The things were fucking awful. The eggs tasted like chemicals and the plastic bottle they came out of. The thin, half-dollar sized sausage patty might as well have been a fucking cinder. Still, he'd eaten worse shit. He shoved the last few bites into his mouth. Next time he had to leave at such a ridiculous hour, he'd let the frail cook for him.

He scanned through tinny radio stations until he found some news, then he ignored it in favor of reviewing his itinerary. He figured that about eighty-five percent of what he did was logistics. Get to the right place at the right time with the right equipment and the rest is easy. Hell, sometimes the rest was even fun. Figuring all that shit out was still a pain in the ass though. The more conditions that had to be met, the bigger the pain in the ass.

This one was easily the biggest mess he'd ever been involved in and if it wasn't personal he wouldn't have even thought of wading into the middle of it. Multiple locations, multiple teams, multiple targets, tightest fucking window he'd ever used and a double transport just to finish out the fun. He figured the best way to do it was treat the whole fucking thing like an onion and start from the outside and work his way in.

Paulie C's organization was the outside of the onion. His minions didn't give a shit personally, but whoever avenged the sick fucker's death would make him a shoe-in for the top spot. There were three realistic successors. Four more who liked to think of themselves as being in the running. They were the outermost layers. The first ones to go. The rest were low level thugs, not smart enough or organized enough to be dangerous in the near future.

Cavallo had managed to either sever or avoid all the usual emotional entanglements and that made things easier. There were a couple whores on the payroll, but that was business. Still, no one would miss a couple of whores. His parents were dead, his fine, upstanding siblings had disowned him years ago. The daughter was a wild card. Chances are she wouldn't give a shit. He hadn't come this far to do a half-ass job. She was another layer.

Stan had some paid protection around him. He'd take them out when he grabbed Stan. On the personal side, he had two brothers. Both solid citizens with jobs and community ties. Nothing more than a parking ticket between them. He'd keep up the observations, but he doubted either one would make retaliatory trouble. The CoH was too big and too well-defended to take apart. Shit would crop up eventually. When it did, he would deal with it.

They were all clean kills, but even clean kills took time.

He stepped on the gas.

* * *

Kelly tossed the pencil down and pushed the notebook away. "This is ridiculous!" She rubbed her eyes. "We're never gonna get this one."

"It's only our fourth time through it." Cassie said, the sarcasm clear in her voice. "We've got all night, who needs sleep or sanity?" She rubbed the side of her head again. She'd rubbed it so much that some of her hair was pulled out of her ponytail and sticking up in an angry-looking nest.

"And what I want to know is, why do we need to prove it anyway? Is the author of this textbook a pathological liar? If they tell me that one thing equals another why do I have to spend twenty minutes of my life trying to prove that it's true?"

"Twenty minutes if you get it right the first time."

"And what if the author is a liar, why are we using his textbook in the first place? That's just rewarding bad behavior."

Cassie laughed. "God I've missed studying with you."

Kelly giggled. "Because I go off on wild rants when I get upset?"

She grinned. "Better than anyone I know."

"Great. Maybe I should try it during class sometime. If I get kicked out I can take my act on the road." Kelly smiled.

"Sabe- I mean Victor, would love that."

Kelly sighed and pulled her feet up onto the chair so that her legs were crossed Indian style. "His name is really hard for you to say, isn't it."

Cassie shrugged and pulled the band out of her hair. "It's just weird. I mean before, it was like he was just some monster and that was really easy because I didn't have to think about it anymore than that. He was bad-dangerous guy and everybody knew it. Now..." She took a deep breath. "I see you every day and your eyes light up when you talk about him. It made everything really complicated." She blushed. "Can..can he hear me?"

Kelly laughed. "No. He's not here right now."

"He's not?" She sat forward.

Kelly cursed herself and tried not to squirm. "Not at the moment. Where are Sophie and Lucy tonight?"

"Sophie is tutoring chem in the library and Lucy had Danger Room training. We need to talk-"

Kelly looked up at the rafters and groaned. "Oh Cassie! Why is it every time we're alone together for a minute and a half you start reading from Professor Xavier's script."

"What? No! I mean, usually yes, but not this time."

Kelly heard a different kind of tension in Cassie's voice. She looked at the screen again. Cassie was up pacing. That was different too. "Okay. What's up?"

Cassie sat down again and stared into the screen. "Okay, you know I told you about this guy I've been seeing?"

Kelly tried not to laugh. "Gee, I don't know. Is that perhaps the same guy you've been showing me different pictures of every night for the past few weeks?"

Cassie smiled and blushed and looked away. "You've noticed."

Kelly tapped her lip. "What was his name again? Brian? Bill?"

Cassie laughed. "Brady. As if you didn't know."

Kelly smiled. "So what's the deal with _Brady_?"

"Next weekend is his birthday and his parents bought him tickets to see Godsmack-"

"Who?"

Cassie sat back in her chair and stared at Kelly. "Who?" The question was flavored with shocked disbelief.

Kelly waved. "Excuse me. I've been a bit removed from pop culture recently."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay. They're a heavy metal band."

"You listen to heavy metal?"

Cassie shrugged and looked away. "Well, you know, it's good to try new things."

"Meaning Brady likes it."

"Well, yeah." She sat up straighter and tried to look indignant. "So? Tell me you don't listen to something or watch some show because Victor likes it."

Kelly smiled and shrugged. "He just has good taste."

Cassie groaned. "Oh please."

"So...Brady's birthday...concert tickets?" Kelly smiled sweetly.

"Yeah. He's from Cranford too. So he asked me to go and I told him yes, of course. Then I had to set it up with my parents so that I could stay there and we went through this whole thing with Professor Xavier and he finally said yes. So now the whole thing is all set up with everybody's parents and when you and Victor...you know...for the first time it wasn't any big deal right?" The words came out in a breathless rush.

Kelly stared at the screen for a long moment, processing everything Cassie said. "That kinda took a turn at the end there."

"Come on, I know you don't really talk about the more personal side of your life and I'm not asking for details." Cassie's face was bright red, her fingers drummed the top of the desk. Her eyes were turned away. "It's just that Brady says it's nothing and if I cared about him I would. Lucy treats it like shaking hands and will do it with anybody who shows half an interest. Sophie just giggles and literally turns fifteen shades of red all at once whenever I try to talk about it. If I tell anyone else God knows what'll be all around school in the morning." Cassie looked at the screen again. "So it was no big thing, right?" Her tone was hopeful. A little too hopeful.

Kelly watched her for a long moment. "Sounds like you don't really want to."

Cassie shrugged. "It's not that. I don't know. Brady is great-looking and all the girls are falling all over themselves to be with him. And he wants to be with me. I should want to, shouldn't I?"

Kelly shifted in her chair. "I don't know that the concept of 'should' really enters into this."

"Victor didn't...push the issue?"

Kelly felt a blush heating up her cheeks. She smiled a little. "He definitely got things started, because I didn't really know how to. Just kissing him...I don't know, I knew I needed him even though I didn't really know everything that entailed."

Cassie bit her lip for a second. "Did you like it?"

Kelly felt her blush deepen. "Most of it. What wasn't so great got a lot better after the first time."

Cassie hugged her knees and looked sidelong at the monitor. "When Brady kisses me it's nice."

"Just nice?" This was when the distance between them was almost painful. Seeing and hearing her friend was not the same as being able to sit next to her.

She shrugged with one shoulder. "It's kind of weird sometimes. If he just kisses me it's nice and kind of exciting. He always gets so grabby though. Then it just gets really weird and uncomfortable."

"And you think you should let him do more than kiss you?"

Cassie sighed. "He'll break up with me."

"So what if he does? You'll find someone better."

She sighed. "And in the meantime he's going tell all his stupid friends that we did anyway."

"Um again, so what?"

Cassie smiled a little and looked at the monitor. "You really don't care what other people think, do you?"

Kelly smiled and shrugged a little. "You're the one who has to live your life. It doesn't matter what you do or don't do, someone isn't going to like it. You can try and please everyone and make yourself really unhappy, or you can do what's right for you."

Cassie took a deep breath and sat up straighter. "I can do that." She tried to sound confident. "I think." The confidence of a moment before retreated again.

"I think we need to try this proof once more." Kelly said.

"Isn't four times enough?"

"It's the last one. There has to be something we're missing."

"Yeah, and we're probably going to keep missing it." Cassie sighed and pulled her notebook closer again.

"If we miss it this time, we call it a night." She wrote down the problem on a new page.

"Fine." The word had a tortured ring to it. "I picked where to start the last time. It's your turn."

Kelly sighed and tapped the eraser end of her pencil against the page. "Let's try an old favorite, factor cosine out of the denominator on the left."

"Is it hard to sleep when he's not there?"

"Cassie!"

"I'm just curious. I mean you must get used to him being there."

Kelly sighed and smiled a little. "Yeah. I miss him when he's not here. But I was trying not to think about it." She looked at the screen meaningfully.

She held up her hands in submission. "I get the hint. Factoring out cosine."

* * *

"So Raymond," Creed stood in a brightly lit walk-in closet and looked at clothes neatly arrayed before him. Padded hangers were evenly spaced. Colors shifted from white on the left to black on the right. There was a rack for suits and they were arranged by color as well. Ties were rolled and stored in cubbies. Belts were stored in a similar way. "You got OCD or some shit like that?" He glanced at the man on the bathroom floor, his neck was at an unnatural angle. His eyes twitched. Breath came at irregular intervals, but it still came. Creed was fairly certain Raymond Alfonse could still hear.

Creed turned his eyes back to the closet again. "Probably not. You smell like you ain't had a fucking shower in at least three days and I know you got a maid. Ugly old crone too from what my sources tell me. In on Tuesdays and Fridays just like clockwork. Don't know why you didn't get one you could fuck, but I guess that's your deal." He started opening cabinet doors. "Question is, where does the maid keep your travel bag."

Raymond moaned weakly from the floor. Yup, he could still hear.

"What's that Raymond?" Creed cupped his hand around his ear.

The man was silent.

"No problem. I'll find it myself." He opened another cabinet. The faint scent of blood came from a black nylon bag. "There we go."

"Guess you're wondering why you. Most people do, like it makes the dying easier somehow. Since you're still conscious, I figure I might as well tell you. 'Specially why I did such a fucked up job on your neck." He found socks and underwear out of the drawers and put four pair of each in the bag. "Honestly, that part bothers the professional in me, Raymond."

Another moan. Creed walked over and looked down, appraising the man's condition. He'd be around awhile longer. Fucking annoying. He walked back to the closet. "Fucking unprofessional way to break a neck. Too far down. Fucks up the brain stem, but doesn't really sever it. Everything just kinda swells and compresses and eventually you die but it takes awhile. Fucking it up can lead to all kinds of complications, 'specially if you don't wait around long enough to make sure the job is finished. Right now, if I called paramedics, you'd probably live. Your life would suck, but you'd be still be on the right side of the dirt. What you really want is internal decapitation. Do that and it's lights out. Course your boy Mickey don't know shit about that. Probably hasn't even heard the term before. Where'd he learn how to break a neck anyways? TV? Give the head a good twist and there you go?" Creed studied the clothing and selected a couple of dark track suits that had the taint of old blood on them, as well as a pair of dark gray slacks and a maroon shirt.

"Jesus Christ, what'd you do? Order the whole fucking Tony Soprano collection? Anyways, I know you know who I am because I saw it in your eyes when you were still twitching. 'Less I'm mistaken, you know why I'm going after your boss." He started opening cabinets by the bathroom sink. "Where the fuck do you keep your shaving kit?" He looked down at the man again.

There was still awareness in his eyes.

"You had to know I'd be comin' for your boss and you been in this business long enough to know that leaving loose ends is just fucking stupid." He found the bag of toiletries under the sink. "I know you got ambitions. You're small time and you know it and it doesn't sit well with you. Only natural. Cavallo made sure you stayed hungry too. You and the others handle all the bloody parts of the business. You get slightly better than average money and promises." He walked over to the man on the floor again. Fear and desperation were rolling off of him in waves. His eyes were still animated. "Course I take him out, you and your cronies try and move up and it's a big fucking mess. Not to mention the fact that all of you are gonna wanna prove you got the balls to be in charge by coming after me or my frail. I ain't about to let that happen. Which brings me to why you're laying on the bathroom floor of your own McMansion dying a slow death."

He walked away and started searching nightstands. "See, you got two things I need. First of all, you got a signature. You killed five for Cavallo and every time it's the same. Blow to the back of the head knocks 'em unconscious, then you sit 'em up in a chair and shoot 'em twice. Left eye first, then the right. Why you gotta make such a fucking show of it I don't know, but it must do something for you. I figure when your boss disappears there's gonna be a little internal power struggle. You're gonna win. Sort of. It's gonna look like you took out the competition anyway. Then, tragedy strikes and Mickey the Toady comes in and takes you out with his own signature move, shitty as it is."

He moved on to a tall chest of drawers. "So you're a pretty important player in this whole thing. Without you and Mickey, I'd have to get creative and frankly I ain't got time for that." Creed made sure the drawers didn't look rifled, but he still hadn't found the gun. He stood in the middle of the neat room and looked around. Guy like Raymond wouldn't be far away from his gun. He was sure of that. He ran a hand under the slept-in side of the bed, then under the mattress, and finally under the pillow. He pulled out a Glock nine millimeter handgun. He gave a derisive snort. "Haven't got an ounce of flair in you, have you Raymond."

He stuck it in the back of his waistband and checked on Raymond again. This time, his eyes were empty. The smell of death was creeping into the room. Creed wiped down the surfaces in the bedroom, bathroom and closet. Then he carried the bag down to the van. The next order of business would be to get Raymond into cold storage for a few weeks.

Then he could get to work.

* * *

It took Creed all of thirty seconds to realize that Lou's Taproom was a hemorrhoid on the asshole of the world. The place stank of stale booze, old puke, rancid sex and desperation. Those were just the comforting smells. The bartender stood in front of him, a look of boredom laced with hostility on his lined face.

"Beer."

"Kind?"

"Cold."

The man sighed and set a bottle in front of him. He walked away, ignoring the sticky-looking places on the bar. If it hadn't been for the frail, he would have figured out another way. Who was he trying to kid, if it hadn't been for the frail, he might have gotten an ounce of pleasure out of the last twenty-four hours.

Killing machine. Forged in the fire of rage and cooled with his own blood. Schooled in pain. Dead inside. Maiming and killing were power and pleasure. The way he got his fucking rocks off. Because that's the monster he was. Fucking frail. She just walked right in all wrapped in vulnerability and soft skin and showed him a different, headier kind of power. Showed him the man inside the monster. Showed him what peace was.

Didn't make a goddamn bit of difference now. He drained half the beer.

Didn't mean he was going to stop either, not this time. He reviewed the high points of what his sources had told him about Giada Bellafiore. Conlon told him she was tall, blond, high maintenance and liked to think of herself as the life of the party. His sources told him that Giada was a jaded slut who liked to drink as long as someone else was buying, was open to damn near any drug she saw someone else take first, and had developed a taste for slumming with mutants. She rationalized the danger with her belief that her general infamy would somehow protect her.

Stupid bitch.

He took another swallow of the beer.

His sensitive ears picked up the squeak of the door hinge. Giada came in alone in a tight denim dress and a short jacket that showed off an emaciated waist, the generous upper slopes of silicone enhanced breasts, and leg up to her fucking crotch. She was only a little older than the frail. She looked like an aging whore. The breeze from the door carried her scent through to him. Under all the perfume and make-up and all that shit she smelled like one too.

From the minute she walked in, Creed watched her work the room. His sources were right. She gravitated to the four mutants who were there. Moving between them, teasing, assessing keenness and delicious danger. Even he could tell that Giada liked it dangerous and dirty.

He waited in the shadows at the end of the bar, watching. Eventually, the weight of his stare drew her eyes in his direction. He held her eyes, flashed a fang, drained the beer and walked out, making sure to brush past her on the way to the door.

It wasn't much, but he could smell her getting wetter as he passed her. Creed melted into the shadows of an alley across the deserted street from the bar. Twenty minutes later Giada came out with a pockmarked mutant in a beat-up biker jacket. He wore a look of surprise at his good fortune and walked with a swagger. The quick exit was a surprise, but it did make things easier on him. Giada giggled as her companion dragged her behind a dumpster. Creed didn't need extra sensitive hearing to pick up the moan she let out and he didn't need to see what was going on to know that Giada had her back against the wall and her pussy wrapped around the stranger's cock.

Almost like she was reading from a fucking script. The pretty boys from the trendy clubs, she brought home. When she went slumming, she fucked them in bathrooms or back alleys. Daddy had let her security lapse of late, so she was all alone on her little excursions to the wrong side of the tracks too. That put her squarely in the category of easy prey.

Occasionally, an overheated moan would drift out to him. Creed glanced at his watch. Fourteen minutes into the encounter, Giada let out a forced-sounding squeal. He smirked. She goes out looking for a dirty fuck and ends up having to fake it. Almost made him feel sorry for her.

The guy came out a few minutes later, adjusting himself as he walked away. Giada emerged a few minutes after that, tossed her hair and started walking in the same direction. From her gait it was clear that she wasn't trying to catch up to her companion.

Creed watched for a few minutes, then he followed. The scent coming off her said whoever the guy was, he'd been stupid enough not to use a condom. He grinned and closed the distance between them. With one hand clamped over her mouth, he pushed her into a small vacant lot and around the back of an empty building. She struggled until she saw his face. Her heart was still racing, but she stopped struggling. She pressed her legs together and shifted her hips against the wall. Even if he hadn't been able to smell her, he caught the recognition.

He leaned down next to her ear. "Gonna scream?" His voice was a low, seductive purr.

She shook her head.

Creed took his hand away.

She gave a practiced flirty smile. "Could've just said hi in the bar."

He shrugged. "Had to do something first. Figured I'd find you again." He grinned.

A blonde eyebrow arched. "What if I didn't want you to?" She'd moved off the wall to press herself against him.

"You wanna talk," He pushed her back against the wall just hard enough to draw a moan from her. "Or you want me to scratch that itch that skinny bastard left you with?"

Her hands wandered over his chest, then to the front of his jeans. "What if I had screamed?"

Creed grinned and shrugged. "Then I'd've had to kill you."

Giada laughed and tried to pull him down into a kiss. Creed pushed her away. He pulled two filled syringes out of his pocket and showed them to her. "What's that?" Her voice was curious and eager.

"Little somethin' to make the cum better." Creed rolled up his sleeve and punctured a vein, emptying the contents of one into his bloodstream. The drug brought a momentary tension to his chest, but that dissipated in a few seconds. He offered the other needle to Giada.

She shook her head. "I suck at finding a good spot."

He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation and took her arm. "Lemme do it." He put a soft slur in his words, his movements were slower, more deliberate.

Giada didn't resist as he slid the needle into the crook of her arm. She grinned. "What is it? In case I want some more."

Creed pushed the plunger and watched the drug start to take effect. Giada's eyes widened and she reached out to claw at him. She was struggling to breathe. His grin was laced with murder. "Succinylcholine. Trust me, that's the only dose you'll ever need."

The struggles to breathe stopped. Her eyes were wide, the drug paralyzing her muscles. Her own body suffocating her without robbing her of consciousness. She slid down the wall and he took the needle out of her arm. He let her sit with her legs spread wide, the skirt up over her hips. Deft claws sliced the buttons off the dress.

He took out another syringe, this one filled with heroin. "You really were a dumb cunt." He was careful to push the needle into the same place in the crook of her arm. He wiped the barrel of the syringe and the plunger, then used her hand to inject the drug. Despite the fact that she couldn't breathe, her heart would still beat for another couple of minutes, sending the drug through her body and giving the coroner a nice, neat cause of death.

Creed stood back and waited until the smell of death started to saturate the tiny space. He grabbed her purse with tips of his claws, walked into the empty lot and vaulted easily over the chainlink fence. He dropped the purse next to a sleeping homeless man before he emerged on the other side of the block.

His pace was unhurried. Just a guy out for a late night stroll. He'd just about reached the place where the van was parked when the phone on his hip vibrated. He looked at the number and saw it was the frail. The thought of talking to her with the stink of the slut's death on him disgusted Creed. He let the call go to voicemail. He'd call her back when he'd had a shower.

He got in the van and pulled away from the curb. At the first red light, he dialed a number. The phone was answered by silence. "Done my half. Get on with yours and don't fuck it up." He ended the call confident that the team waiting outside Cavallo's house was on their way in.

* * *

Kelly sat in one of the wide window sills. Her head rested against the glass. The cup of coffee in her hand was still too hot to drink, but the warmth felt good in her hands. Victor had been gone just over forty-eight hours, but it felt more like four months. She'd called him once, but he didn't answer. He called her back a few hours later, but hearing him had only made her ache to have him close.

"What's happening today?"

"Hm?" Kelly glanced up at Conlon.

"Over there." He indicated the building across the way with a nod of his head. "Anything interesting?"

"Mr. Left's wife found out he's been sneaking around with Mrs. Right."

"How do you know?"

She knew he was just trying to draw her out. She let him. "Come and look." In the left-hand apartment, a woman stood in the living room with a pile of clothing and a pair of scissors. The mascara streaking her cheeks made it clear that she had been crying. Her vision was clear enough to cut the crotch out of the pair of pants in her hand. She bent over and picked up another pair from the pile.

Conlon nodded. "Yep, looks like she found out alright. Mrs. Right's husband find out?"

"I don't think he believes it. They looked like they were having a fight awhile ago."

"They always fight."

"I know. I can't imagine having that much to fight about on a daily basis though." She smiled a little. "Sometimes I wish I had sound."

He laughed. "You could just watch the soaps."

She shrugged. The smiled twitched a little wider. "That's all made up." She pointed to the window. "This is real life. Much more interesting."

A silence hung in the air for a few long moments.

"He'll be back soon." Conlon's voice was quiet.

A deep sigh. "I know." Kelly looked over at him for the first time. "It's just strange being apart from him." She looked at Conlon. "Not that I don't appreciate-"

"It's okay. It's not the same thing."

* * *

Victor Creed didn't believe in taking risks with where he slept. That was one of the reasons he bought the second building all those years ago. It shared a common wall with the warehouse. Besides, living close to a place where he could work had its appeal. It took him awhile longer to see the true potential of the place.

Back then, he hadn't known shit about the psychology of what he did. He knew all about how to make someone hurt, how to make them beg for death to escape it, how to make them afraid. All the basics. How the mind connected and intensified all of those things wasn't even on his radar until a client hired him to deal with a certain member of his organization who had turned snitch.

Creed had thought it was a stupid idea at first, but he wasn't being paid for his critique. To his surprise, a little window dressing went a goddamn long way to intensifying the whole thing. It left him with a desire to know more and a police-style interrogation room straight out of the movies, complete with harsh lighting, one way glass observation window, yellowish walls and linoleum, and a metal chair bolted into the floor. Through the years he'd made improvements; an intercom system, better locks, little shit like that, but it was essentially the same place it was all those years ago.

Stan's sorry ass was currently occupying the chair. His hands were cuffed behind him and secured to the back of the chair. His ankles were shackled to rungs. He was still unconscious from the cocktail of drugs that had drained into he veins for the long drive from New York State.

Much as Creed had wanted to pick him up personally, he hadn't trusted himself to simply sedate the son of a bitch. He was going to tear Stanley Wilton apart. He was going to make it last, redress every wound the frail ever suffered because of him. Savor every scream ripped from his fucking throat. Make an eternity in Hell look like a vacation. His claws itched for the chance.

Then he thought about the frail's request. The only thing she'd asked him for. Letting her walk into a room with the reality of what he did to people sitting right in front of her covered in blood and bruises would have been another trauma. That idea was the only thing that was holding the animal in check.

The balding head jerked. Creed stood up a little straighter and turned on the intercom. It seemed like forever before the twitch happened again. This time it was accompanied by a moan. The captive man tried to bring his hands forward, tried to shift in the chair, and found himself held fast. That realization pushed back the fog of the drug. His head came up and he opened his eyes. For a long moment, he looked dazed, then recognition dawned on the jowly face.

"Hello?" His voice was gravely and laced with terror. "Who's there? Let me out of here!"

Creed stayed silent and turned off the intercom. He took the phone off his belt and dialed.

"Conlon."

"He's awake." He ended the call. Conlon would know what to do from there.

* * *

Kelly stood in front of the mirror and assessed how she looked. In the last hour, she had changed her clothes five times, thrown up twice and showered once. Victor had told her that he'd call Conlon when everything was set, but then it was just an idea. An abstraction that might happen, but probably wouldn't. Now it was real and Kelly wasn't sure she could face Stan.

She took a deep breath and looked at herself again. It shouldn't have mattered so much what she was wearing. Being there, alive and breathing would make enough of an impression. Still, jeans weren't right and nothing else seemed right either. Finally, she'd selected a full black skirt and dark green silk blouse. Her hair was twisted into a neat bun. A bit of make-up hid her nervous pallor. Black boots with three inch heels made her feel taller. Less vulnerable.

Finally she went downstairs.

Conlon stood up. "Ready?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice. He helped her on with her coat and then went down to the garage. Conlon opened the door to the dark SUV and Kelly got in the front seat. She didn't pay any attention to where they were going, but it seemed to take ages to get there. Finally, they pulled up to another brick building with a garage mechanism similar to the one at the apartment. Conlon pulled in to a much smaller, much dimmer parking area. She got out and followed him to a door mostly concealed in the shadows. Conlon entered a code and the door opened into a short, dim, brick-lined hallway terminating in a set of stairs leading down.

Kelly paused at the threshold.

Conlon looked back at her. "If you don't want to, I'll tell-"

"No." She closed the door behind her and walked down the hall. "I just wasn't expecting..." She shook her head.

Kelly followed Conlon through what seemed like a rabbit warren of tunnels. There were cameras everywhere. Each time they approached a door, Conlon looked up into the camera and the lock clicked open. After the fourth door, and another set of stairs leading down, she saw Victor standing at a wide spot in the hall, waiting. His arms were crossed over his chest.

She could see that he was almost as tense as she was scared.

Conlon let her walk the rest of the way alone.

As soon as she was close enough, Victor pulled her against his chest. For a long moment, he just held her. Kelly felt some of the more painful fear start to subside.

"Smell scared." His voice was a soft rumble.

Kelly tightened her arms around him. "I don't know if I can do this." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He lifted her chin. "I ain't gonna force you. I'd rather you forgot about the sorry motherfucker altogether. Think that'll happen if you don't say what you gotta say?"

"No." A man without Victor's acute hearing would have missed it.

He kissed her forehead and lead her toward a large window. On the other side, Stan was shackled to a chair. Kelly jumped back, but Victor caught her. "One way glass, he can't see you."

Kelly looked at Victor and stepped forward again, studying the man that had made her life and the lives of those she loved a living hell. He was fatter than she remembered. Softer. Smaller. His arrogant expression had melted and shifted into a look of pure desperation. He was shouting something, but she couldn't hear what it was.

Seeing him like that, shackled and terrified, she almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He was the one who was responsible for her knowing what it was like to be captive and terrified. She barely noticed when Victor took her coat off. He put his hand on her stomach and leaned close to her ear.

"Wanna hear him?" His voice was soft.

Kelly didn't trust her own voice yet, so she nodded.

"We can hear him. He can't hear us." He pushed a button.

"-out there! I demand to be let out of here! Do you know who I am?" It was bluster. The desperation was even more clear in his voice than it had been in his face. "I have powerful friends. Friends you wouldn't want to cross. Friends who can put you in a hole so deep no one'll ever find any trace of you!"

"That's what he wanted Cavallo to do to me," she whispered.

"Not a very original son of a bitch is he?"

Kelly could feel her anger starting to overtake her fear.

"Seeing you again is better than he deserves." His voice was still soft, soothing. "Think he'd have had the balls to go to see you in Cavallo's bunker?"

She shook her head a little. The diatribe coming through the intercom had turned into a discordant melange of swearing and begging. She ignored it.

"Fucking right he wouldn't." His hand stroked her stomach softly. "He was always beneath you. You know it, now he's gonna know it."

Kelly nodded and forced herself to step away from Victor.

He stepped in front of her. "You walk in there and you have all the power. You say what you want, do what you want."

She nodded again.

"There's no handle on the inside of the door. I'll be listening, so say 'I think we're done here' and I'll let you out."

Kelly looked at the colorless room. The idea of being locked in there brought an onslaught of memories of her own captivity. She looked at the little toad of man in the chair. His face was red, his anger and indignation were back. So were hers. She nodded at Victor. He put his hand on a scanner and a lock clicked. Stan must have heard the sound too because he fell silent. She squared her shoulders and walked into the room.

"Well it's about damn time! Unlock me right now and I'll try to get my friend to go easy on you." The sound of angry indignation mixed with the smell of stale air and urine.

Kelly willed herself not to flinch when the door closed behind her.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Stan demanded. Fear and anger fought for dominance in his piggy little eyes. His shoulders tried to muster dominance. His mouth was drawn into a resolved line. "Look, I don't know who you're working for or what they told you, but the fact that you're a woman isn't going to intimidate me."

The one thing that was missing from his features was recognition. Any fear that Kelly had fell away, leaving only a fierce kind of clarity she hadn't known existed. She would say what she came to say, but she would be damned if she would tell him who she was first.

Kelly glanced around the room and spotted a folding chair by the door. She set it up across from Stan and sat down. Her legs were crossed, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on his.

She'd wait until he figured it out.

* * *

Creed motioned for Conlon to come over to the observation window. A small smile was on his lips. The frail sat motionless in a chair while the fat little bastard sputtered and pleaded and swore.

"What's she doing?" Conlon asked.

Creed glanced at the smaller mutant. "Waiting."

"For what?"

"You can't tell?" Creed studied the smaller man.

Conlon shrugged. "Not really. As nervous as she was before we left, I would have thought that she would just say what she wanted to say and get it over with."

"You might be able to assess a threat on the fly, but you're fucking useless when it comes to anything else, aren't you?"

Conlon looked at him for a long moment. "Not what I was hired for."

"Damn good thing." Creed looked at the frail's back again. "He's got no fucking idea who she is. He's been demanding to know, as if he was in a position to demand anything. 'F she tells him, she gives control of the conversation to him. Deep down, she knew that." He was silent for a long moment. "She's a fucking natural at this shit." The words brought a physical ache to his chest. He knew how she had come by those unique skills.

Stan stopped talking so much and started looking at the frail more intently in the ensuing silences. Creed could see tension in her back, but she managed to keep her body still.

"You're going to make him last." There was a certainty in Conlon's words.

Creed shrugged. "All the shit he did to her, I don't think even I can wring enough suffering out of a human body to make up for it."

The room in front of them had gone silent. The frail still sat motionless. Stan was leaning forward as far as the chair would allow, studying her face. Creed and Conlon watched Stan. A moment later the fat bastard sat as far back in the chair as he could. The color drained from his face. "Oh my God." He started to try and push the chair back with his shackled feet.

* * *

Kelly watched the change sweep over Stan's features. When he started to try and backpedal, she smiled.

"Something wrong Stan?" She kept her tone conversational. "Well, aside from the obvious captivity thing."

He was shaking now, all the bluster replaced by fear. "I...you...you were-"

"Supposed to be dead?" She finished. "Yeah, that didn't quite work out."

"Y-no! Dead? No! I mean..." His mind was racing, trying to put together something that sounded reasonable. Kelly could almost see the gears spinning. "I mean, I thought you were happily married to Roland."

She shook her head. "After everything that's happened, you still want to lie?"

"Kelly-"

"And not even a very plausible lie." She got up and started to walk around him in a slow circle, her arms still crossed over her stomach. The sound of her heels on the tile filling the small room.

"It was your mother." The words came out quickly.

She stopped in front of him. "My mother?" Sweat had made dark rings under his arms.

He tried for a casual shrug and ended up with more of a nervous twitch. "You know how she is. Flighty. Sh-She got the idea that you'd be happier out of the house and, as usual, she made me the bad guy. You really don't know what I've had to put up with all these years."

He was grasping at straws, they both knew it. "She made you the bad guy."

"All the time." There was a hopeful excitement in his eyes. "She couldn't stand the thought of you kids hating her." He leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. "She's not a very stable woman."

"Not a stable woman." Kelly stood still looking down on Stan. "Did that instability start before or after you started feeding her Panacea?"

His eyes widened and then narrowed. "I don't know what your-"

She stepped forward. "I'd rethink that, Stan."

Anger twisted his features again. "What do you want?"

"Just the truth."

A derisive laugh. "And then you kill me, is that it?"

She smiled sweetly. "I'm not going to lay a finger on you." Kelly sat down across from him again to emphasize the point. "You married my mother because you wanted a ready-made family. Something to show off."

He swallowed hard. "I wanted to be a father-"

"Bullshit."

"What? You want me to say it?" He screamed. "Fine! I had everything else in place to move up in the Church except a family. You were window dressing. Didn't realize you would be a pain in my ass from day one. Figured Dawes would break you. Turn you into a submissive wife."

She'd known it all along, but the words hurt as much as any punch she'd taken from Müller's assistants. She forced herself to be still and keep her face expressionless. The silence stretched.

"What'd you do? Kill him?" Stan's face twisted, as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth.

A little smile touched her lips. "I don't think I'll be answering any of your questions today, Stan."

He stared at her, anger narrowing his eyes and tightening his jaw. "Little bitch. I should have made sure that the only way you left my house was feet first."

Kelly nodded. "Probably. You never were very competent though. That what got you in trouble with Paulie C.?"

His eyes widened and then narrowed again. He shifted in the chair as much as the restraints would allow. "What do you know about that?"

"More than I thought apparently. Delivery schedules, cash transactions, even sales strategies all from your lips to my receptive ears." Every minute she spent in the cell, maintaining control was easier. "Not very wise. How did Cavallo find out you two were overheard?"

His face was florid with anger, his teeth ground together and for a long moment Kelly was certain he wasn't going to answer. "That little bastard of a brother of yours. I was seeing Paulie to his car and the little son of a bitch started asking questions. After that, it was you kids or me. Wasn't a choice really." He smirked. "A couple of tragedies with the right spin could put me in the public eye. No one would have to know that you two were impure little freaks."

Kelly ignored the comment. "Cavallo didn't want Cody dead?"

Stan shrugged. "Don't know, maybe they thought he was dead. He sure as hell looked like it." His left eye twitched as he said it.

Kelly watched the sweating man in front of her. "You did it yourself." Her voice was quiet. "And in your usual style you screwed it up."

Anger flared again. He leaned forward pulling on the cuffs. "Yes. I did it and so help me every time I punched him or kicked him I saw your face. The whole thing was your fault. All you had to do was fall into line and he would have too, but oh no, you had to a hard-headed little bitch from the minute I laid eyes on you. And I didn't screw anything up! Your mother came in and saw her precious little boy laying in a pool of blood and piss and I knew the only chance I had was to convince her it was an accident. I figured he'd die at the hospital. Little bastard hung on."

Kelly's stomach turned. She pushed the feeling aside. There would be plenty of time later to be sick. "That meant you owed Cavallo a life. Cavallo wouldn't have gotten any pleasure of watching his men try to torment someone who was already in a coma."

Stan sat back again. "Know an awful lot don't you." He shrugged. "Figured you'd be more fun for Paulie and his boys anyway."

She got up quickly because her rising anger prevented stillness.

Stan cringed back in fear. "What are you going to do?" He spoke quickly.

Kelly stared at him for a long moment. He was disgusting, something less than human and the quicker he was out of her life for good, the better. She took a deep breath. "I'm going to forgive you, Stan."

He stared at her. "What?"

She bent over and looked into his eyes, her nose an inch away from his. "You are a sorry excuse for a human being. You wrap yourself in hatred and excuses because you can't face what a cowardly waste of space you really are. Hurting the defenseless makes you feel less like the insignificant little maggot you are. I don't have room for that in my life, so in time I will forgive you. Then I'm going to forget you ever existed." She stood up again and smiled at him. "I think we're done here." Her head was spinning, a tremor was threatening to take over her body.

The door opened behind her and Victor pulled her into a deep kiss. How he knew she needed that kind of strength at that moment was a mystery to her, she was grateful that he did.

"What-who are you?" Stan's eyes were wide. Kelly and Victor both watched him until recognition dawned. "My God, you're-"

Victor grinned a fang-baring grin. "Her mate." He looked at Kelly again. "Whatcha got planned for the rest of the day, frail?"

The look in his eyes told Kelly that 'going home to throw up' was not the right answer. "I have a hair appointment."

"Mate? What the hell is that?" Stan was struggling now.

Victor held her eyes. "Where?"

"Irina's."

He nipped her lower lip softly. "Not too short."

She forced a smile. "I promise."

He led her to the door with his hand on the small of her back.

"You can't leave me here!" Stan's scream was filled with abject terror.

Kelly and Victor stopped to look at him.

"Why the fuck not?" Victor asked.

His eyes darted between the two of them. "Because...Because she forgave me. It's over, she forgave me!"

Kelly nodded. "I said I will forgive you. Eventually."

Victor grinned again. "I don't forgive."


	31. Montresor and Fortunato

_This has been ages in coming, and all I can do is humbly apologize. Real life was overwhelming for awhile and posting something bad for the sake of posting isn't really being true to the spirit of the story you all love to read and I love to write. _

_A couple of notes: Free the Girls is a real charity. You can find out more about them by searching the name. The quote that Victor reads to Stan does come from an Edgar Allen Poe story. If you don't know which one, I'll name it at the end._

_Enjoy!_

_psyche b_

31. Montresor and Fortunato

Kelly did her best not to hang on to Victor too tightly on the way out. The solid sound of the door closing behind them took the last bit of resolve she had left. She felt her knees weaken. Victor held her tighter.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

He pulled her against his chest, holding her there. "You got anything left to be sick with?"

She looked up at him. "How did you-" She stepped back and held her hand over her mouth. "Oh God, you smell it!"

"Nah." He smiled a little. "I just know you."

Kelly blushed and stepped closer to him again.

"Conlon." His voice had a rough edge to it. His eyes were on hers, a little smile on his lips. "'F you got something to say to your former boss, he's in the next room on the right side of the corridor." Victor held out a slip of paper. "This code overrides the scanner."

Conlon nodded and took the scrap of paper. He disappeared around a bend in the dim hallway.

"C'mon." Victor took Kelly's arm and led her up a flight of stairs and into a small room furnished with an ancient green plaid sofa, an avocado green fridge, sink and microwave, and a sagging cot covered in a gray blanket. Spartan as it was, it was still the only place she'd seen that seemed fit for a kind of bare bones habitation.

A shiver went through her as she looked at the gray little space. "You sleep here?"

He shrugged and sat down on the sofa. He took her wrist and pulled her down with him. She stretched out, her head resting against his chest. "Not too often. It's more of a place to get something to eat or shower. Shit like that."

Questions strobed through her mind with the intensity of a camera flash. As quickly as they came, she decided she didn't want the answers. Didn't need them because she had a pretty good idea already. Kelly arched a little closer to him instead.

* * *

Creed watched her go from silent and still to trembling, to crying to sleeping with her fingers tangled in his shirt in the space of twenty minutes. Didn't really surprise him. Stan was a fucking millstone around her neck and he'd just cut the rope. That had to stir some kind of emotional shit in a frail. Even one who had handled herself like a goddamn pro a few minutes before.

One hand drifted over her back, tracing slow circles with his claws. The other moved into her hair, carefully pulling out the pins, letting her hair fall around her shoulders in soft waves and ringlets. It changed her features, softened them back into that perpetual innocence he'd become so entranced by. Still, when he looked at her just right, he could see the strength in the set of her chin and the tilt of her nose. Steel concealed by silk. The idea made him smile.

Exactly the kind of female an alpha needed. He leaned closer and put his nose against the top of her head, taking in her scent. Under the chemical tang of some kind of styling product, her scent was sweeter than ever. The perpetual edge of nervous fear was gone, replaced by sweet sunshine, cool breezes and honeyed vanilla. His cock stirred against her hip.

The thought of fucking her crossed his mind, but he rejected that idea. Fuck wasn't even the right word. It wasn't the right idea. Fucking was what Giada was doing in the alley. Course he had no goddamn idea what else to call it, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't something he wanted to do in a place like this.

He let his mind drift to the idea of going back to the apartment for a little while. Spend a few hours in bed with the frail, letting himself get lost in the other half of his life for a little while. Course, like always, he couldn't do that because motherfucker Stan was in the way. Bastard would keep interfering in his life until he was dead too. Creed was as sure about that as he was that the frail hadn't slept right since he left. He stared at the glowing red numbers on the cheap digital alarm clock and watched another minute click by. He sighed rubbed his forehead against the top of her head.

"Frail."

She murmured something he couldn't make out, then arched her back and settled against him again.

Fucking frail. She was gonna make this hard. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and moved her head so that she was looking at him. "C'mon frail."

Her eyes fluttered open. Recognition of where she was dawned slowly.

He let go of her hair.

"I fell asleep." She sat up and looked around the dingy space.

"Goddamn fast." He smiled a little. "When was the last time you got a decent night's sleep anyway?"

A blush colored her cheeks. "The night you left." She smiled at him. "Doesn't really matter. You're back now. I always sleep better when you're next to me."

And now he was back to feeling like a son of a bitch again. "It'll be another night at least."

Her calm collapsed. "But...you're here! In the same city, why-"

"You don't want me to answer that question." He got up and started to pace. "I'll be back and forth between the apartment and here for awhile. I ain't gonna tell you how long it'll be because I got no fucking idea. If you're awake, I'll tell you when I'm leaving and if I got an idea of when I'll be back I'll tell you that too. Beyond that, you don't ask why or what or any of that shit."

Kelly looked down at her hands. "I don't know if I can." Her voice was quiet.

The tone in her voice made something inside him ache. He stroked his fingers through her hair. "Yeah you can." His voice was softer. "C'mon. I'll have Conlon take you back." He reached for her arm, but she moved away. She pulled her fingers through her hair.

"Let me do something with my hair first. Where are the pins?"

He reached into his pocket handed her the hairpins. He pointed to a door at the far end of the room. "Bathroom's through there."

She disappeared and came back a moment later with her hair smoothed and held back from her face in soft waves. This time, she let him take her arm. He led her down the stairs. Halfway down, he couldn't take the silence and staccato footsteps any more. "You really gonna forgive that sorry bastard?"

Kelly shrugged with one delicate shoulder. "Maybe. Maybe not." A little smile twitched the corner of her mouth. "Sounded good in the moment though."

Creed chuckled. "Too fucking much." He kissed her softly, his tongue teasing hers for a delicious moment. "Wait here. I'm gonna get Conlon."

Creed watched her sit on the stairs, then he headed down the hall. Cavallo was in another bare room, cuffed to another metal chair, but there was no observation window. Creed stood outside the door, straining to hear signs of pain, of argument, or anything else. At first, there was nothing but silence. Then he heard a low moan coming from the other side of the door. He put his hand on the scanner and walked in.

The sharp smell of piss hit him as soon as he opened the door. A table was pushed against the wall, Conlon sat on it, his back resting against the wall, his feet resting on the edge. Cavallo was still secured to the chair, a wet stain spread out from the crotch of his sweats and a puddle had formed around his feet. Creed grabbed a handful of Cavallo's thinning hair and lifted his head revealing a doughy face that he would have been hard-pressed to pick out of a crowd.

Creed let out a disgusted growl. "Dirty fucking animal." The former boss's breath was raspy, shallow. Creed looked at Conlon. "Looks pretty damn good for as much time as you had with him."

Conlon tilted his head in an approximation of a shrug, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "Figured you'd be upset if I got too creative." He sat up.

"Goddamn right. That don't mean you had to just sit there and watched him piss himself."

Conlon got up and walked over to the man in the chair. A little smile quirked the corner of his mouth. "First night I was with Giada, I ended up between two drunk bastards who both thought they had some kind of claim to her because they'd screwed her. Of course, being the kind of slut she was, I don't think she even knew either one's name. I learned two things that night, one was that I was gonna hate that goddamn job." He shoved a fist into the right side of Cavallo's chest. The bastard screamed and started to babble apologies. "The other was that broken ribs hurt like a motherfucker."

Creed looked at the smaller man. He probed the side of the restrained man's chest, bringing a hoarse cry and the salty scent of incipient tears. A slow grin spread across Creed's face. He looked at the other mutant. "Not bad. There might be some hope for you yet." He stood up and faced Conlon. "Frail needs to go back to the apartment. I'll be there in a few minutes to let you out."

The smaller man nodded and walked out of the room. Creed waited until the door was shut before he opened a cabinet on the wall. The video system was a recent, lucky addition. He turned on the monitor and picked up a remote. "Down to just you and me, Paulie." Victor said.

"Look, I didn't know you cared about the girl." Cavallo was doing his best to sound confident and reasonable. The edge of desperation in his voice and the stink of fear and piss broke the illusion. "If I'd known, we could have made a deal."

"A deal." Creed had to work hard not to laugh.

"Well yeah." He shrugged and winced. "You're a businessman, so am I."

Creed nodded. "Here's the only deal we're gonna make." He hit play and the video of Kelly's unconscious arrival at the bunker filled the screen in living color. "You're gonna wait here like a good little boy and watch the video." Creed had cut the tape together himself. He couldn't bear the idea of Link seeing the frail at her most vulnerable. Ghostly images of pain and terror and defiance floated before his eyes. He pushed them aside. Getting blindly pissed off at this point wouldn't do him any good anyway.

"I've seen-"

Creed hit Cavallo hard enough to break his nose. The former boss gave a short cry and sprayed a mist of blood out onto the front of his white t-shirt. "Shut the fuck up. I don't think you watched it the right way the first time. See, you were looking at it as a way to get your fucking rocks off. This time, it's more of a professional courtesy. Foreshadowing for what the rest of your life is going to be like."

"Let's not be hasty. I've still got connections." He coughed out another mist of blood.

"I don't give a shit about how much you scream, talk, babble, swear, whatever. My frail is still here and she's dealt with more than enough shit from you for one lifetime. She don't need to hear you now." Creed opened a drawer the side of the table and got out a tennis ball and a roll of silver duct tape. He shoved the ball in Cavallo's mouth. A sharp cracking sound filled the room as the former boss's jaw opened too wide too fast. The cry of pain came out as nothing more than a muffled whine. Creed wrapped two long strips of tape around Cavallo's head to ensure that the ball stayed in place. He pushed against Paulie's broken ribs again, just to test the improvised gag. When he was satisfied that his captive's cry of pain was effectively blocked, Creed walked out of the room.

* * *

Kelly stood in front of the one way glass and watched Stan. The speaker was off and Kelly wasn't bold enough to start trying buttons. She didn't really need sound anyway. It looked as if Stan had tired himself out with all the screaming and struggling. He was sitting there with his head hanging down, his chin on his chest. Seeing him like that, tied up, vulnerable, made him feel almost sorry for him.

She told herself that Stan didn't deserve that twinge of guilt. Not after everything he'd done. After everything he'd caused to happen.

The sound of a footstep made her turn. Conlon appeared from around the corner. He walked over and stood next to her, his eyes on Stan.

"Makes me a terrible person doesn't it." Her voice was quiet. "Leaving him here with Victor."

Conlon shrugged. "I don't know. You wanted to talk to him so that you could end it for yourself, right?"

The corner of her mouth quirked into a little smile. "To try to anyway."

"He needs his own ending. His'll just be different than yours."

* * *

Creed let Conlon and the frail out. When he got back, he stood in front of the window looking at Stan.

The speakers were off. The fat bastard's chest was rising and falling rhythmically. He was snoring. Sleep was a defense mechanism. The mind escaping from reality. Maybe it was a good thing. Creed needed time to calm himself down.

Torture was a delicate thing. It took planning, knowledge, and calm if you were going to do it right and he'd waited too long for this not to do it right. He could say that he owed it to the frail. That was true enough in its own way, though it was mostly for himself. Kelly had already gotten her closure. Now he needed his.

Stan stirred in the chair, and then he sat up with a start. Creed opened the door and leaned against the frame, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "Have a nice nap?"

The heavy scent of fear and sweat saturated the room. "Look, I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Creed gave a low chuckle and shut the door behind himself. "Why the fuck would I ask you anything? You wouldn't know the truth if ran up and shit in your lap." Creed moved behind Stan. Stan tried to turn his head enough to see what was happening. "Nah, 'f I wanna know anything about what you did, I'll ask the frail." He set a pair of pliers on the folding chair the frail had used. The metal on metal sound make Stan flinch.

"People will know I'm missing." Stan was struggling to keep his voice calm. "They'll be looking for me. Besides, I'm responsible for Cody's care. Kelly would just hate it if she thought her dear little brother was just warehoused somewhere. That'd be your fault."

Creed shrugged and sat on the floor in front of Stan. "You know anything about me Stan?"

Creed could see Stan's mind racing, trying to come up with a good answer. "I don't know, a little."

"What you mean is no." Creed pulled off Stan's shoes.

"What're you-"

"Shut the fuck up. Let me enlighten you. I don't do anything half-assed." He pulled Stan's socks off and ignored the accompanying protests and ineffectual struggles. "Far as anybody is gonna be able to tell, you decided to disappear for awhile. You got overwhelmed with all the family shit going on and the constant media attention. Course it looks like you like that, but that's just a front you put on for the cameras. I got plans for the kid too."

Creed picked up the pliers.

Stan was squirming in his chair. The pool of terror deepened. "What are those for?"

Creed grinned and pinched the little toe of Stan's right foot in the jaws of pliers. Stan gave a shocked cry and started to babble again. Creed didn't bother listening to what Stan was saying; he just waited until the tirade slowed. Then he eased the pressure on the digit, just slightly.

"Oh thank God, I knew you were a reasonable-"

Creed crushed the bones in the toe and grinned as Stan's scream filled the room.

He was whimpering. "Wh-Why-?"

"Why? You really are a dumb son of a bitch." Creed crushed the little toe on the other foot. Stan screamed again. This time a rush of piss accompanied the scream.

"Sh-She forgave me!" He was blubbering like a fucking baby now.

Creed smiled. "Yeah, the frail is pure class." He crushed the second toe on Stan's right foot and waited for the scream to die down to a desperate sobbing. "This ain't about her though."

"Who then?" The words were barely discernible, but Creed'd had years of practice in deciphering pained screams.

Creed grinned and chose the third toe of Stan's left foot. The pliers shattered and ground the small bones. Stan's scream was hoarse. "Me. She's my mate. Never thought I even wanted a mate and then she showed up. You hurt her because you thought you could get away with it or because you got balls the size of fucking raisins. I don't give a shit why you did it. I just know that you pissed me off. She's pure class, but I'm a fucking son of a bitch."

He closed the pliers on the big toe on Stan's left foot.

* * *

Kelly stripped off her clothes and got into the shower as soon as she got back to the apartment. She stood there under the hot water and tried to forget about where she'd been and what she'd seen.

She knew what Victor did, but until she walked into that twisting maze of corridors and cameras it had been nothing more an abstraction. Easily pushed aside by the emptiness left by Victor's absence and routines of daily life. Today she had to face the truth head on in a place painted desperation gray and smelling of stagnation and fear. It was as carefully planned as Cavallo's bunker and served the same purpose. That was the unavoidable fact.

Kelly turned up the hot water and massaged the back of her neck.

Cassie would have told her to leave. Professor Xavier would probably show up in person to offer false sympathy laced with smugness. Her grandfather would tell her that he wanted her to be happy and that would be the truth. Granna wouldn't mean to use it as a weapon, but she would.

Kelly sighed. The idea was ridiculous anyway. She was Victor's mate. Being without him, even now, made her feel like she was missing a piece of her soul. She'd figure out a way to cope with this the same way she'd learned to cope with his moods and to hear the endearments under the insults. Besides, something had flickered through his eyes just after he woke her. Something between ache and embarrassment and resignation. She wasn't sure what that meant, but that fleeting look lingered in her mind.

She sighed and turned off the water. She wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the shower to confront the pile of clothes on the bathroom floor. Just the sight of them brought her back to that sterile little room and all the anger and fear contained inside it. She could just toss the clothes. It seemed like a waste, but she doubted she'd ever be able to look at them again without fighting nausea. She looked at the pile a moment longer. Just because they were tainted to her, didn't mean they were tainted to everyone.

She dried off and pulled on sweats and a t-shirt, and then she went to the kitchen for a grocery bag and a manila envelope. Kelly made a stop at her computer and after a few keystrokes addressed the envelope to Free the Girls and filled out the bare minimum on their donation form. She tossed out the panties and stockings. The blouse and skirt went into the bag in a crumpled heap. The bra went into the envelope along with the printed form and twenty dollars from her household money. The bra had still had the tags on it that morning. She hoped they would forgive her for not washing it first. She picked up the phone and called Conlon.

The few minutes it took him to get up to the apartment seemed more like a stretch of weeks. Kelly's eyes never left the bag of clothing, as if it would somehow manifest Stan or that stark place or some other demon from the last few hours.

The elevator tone sounded and Conlon stepped out. "You okay? You sounded kind of weird on the phone."

"I'm fine." Kelly's voice was tight. She knew she didn't sound fine, but she wasn't going to give Conlon the opportunity to ask any more questions. She picked up the bag and handed it to him. "Tomorrow, can you have these cleaned and then take them to the Goodwill or Volunteers of America or someplace like that." She handed him the boots next. "These too." She put the envelope in the crook of his arm. "While you're out, I'd appreciate it if you could mail this. I have no idea how much postage it'll take."

"Okay." He looked at her curiously. "Are you sure you just want to get rid of this stuff?"

"Very sure." As she watched Conlon walk out, she started to feel lighter.

* * *

Creed woke roaring from the nightmare. His claws extended and slashing, the pain of his father carving into his chest with a shard of broken glass still bright enough for him to wonder why the scent of blood was fading. The rage was still hot enough that he was blind to the utilitarian space for a long moment. He could taste the hatred. Feel it, and the residual fear mix on his skin to form a pungent slime that would linger until he sunk his claws into flesh and used blood to wash it away. To replace emotional gore with physical gore.

That he could handle. That he could tell himself he enjoyed.

The dream faded back into the dim past and Creed sat up, slicing through the remnants of the shredded blanket that had encircled him like insidious tentacles. It had been weeks since a nightmare had swallowed him whole. He put it down to exhaustion or lack of light or fresh air or decent food. Then, he decided the why didn't matter.

There were two motherfuckers downstairs who just might bleed enough to cool his rage.

Kelly never slept well when Victor was gone, but being without him from time to time was just a part of life. She'd gotten used to wearing a shirt that still held Victor's scent and tossing and turning a cold bed by night and wandering from one empty space to another by day. Time moved in a slow drizzle on those days, but she'd gotten used to those stagnant moments. They were like time spent in a waiting room, it was dull, but limited in duration because Victor would be back.

This time seemed worse somehow. It could have been that she knew Victor was so close by. As the days blended one into the next, she started to wonder why it was that he was staying away. The more she let that wondering chase itself around in her mind, the more she thought he was avoiding coming back.

Her appearance in his life was unusual to say the least. Since then he'd been working to find the scattered pieces of the puzzle that brought her into the woods that day to start with and keep her out of harm's way so he could do it. In a way, all of that turmoil made her interesting. What did he have now? She cooked and cleaned for him, but he could hire someone to do that. She slept with him, but she didn't imagine he would have any trouble finding women who were just as willing, better looking and not so fragile. Xavier's had been full of the less fragile and better looking variety.

He'd been everywhere. Seen things she'd only read about. Watched decades and centuries slip by and had found a way to not only keep going, but to turn all the changes to his advantage. What did she have? The ability to piss people off, a stubborn streak a mile wide, a comatose younger brother, a crazy mother and a pile of high school textbooks sitting on the coffee table.

What did he have to come back to really?

* * *

Creed stood in the narrow shower and washed off the stink of Paulie C's final moments. Fucker had held on for nearly four days. Reasonably impressive considering the kind of beating he'd taken over the course of those days. Shit as he was at being a boss, he probably wouldn't have gotten there at all if he'd been prone to giving up easily.

The fact that Cavallo was dead didn't mean his corpse was going to rest in peace. In a few days, when the fat bastard started to get good and ripe, then he'd be ready to move into Stan's tiny cell. That weak son of a bitch was starting to lose it already. Not that Creed gave a shit. A person didn't need to be sane to suffer. The insane ones usually did a hell of a job of torturing themselves too, given the chance.

He turned off the water and pulled a rough towel off the rack. Murder and torment were the easy part. Going back to the frail was proving to be damn near impossible and that made no fucking sense because all he could think about was being back home with her.

Used to be easy. He'd leave; get on with what he had to do, call the frail every few days and then go home to find her waiting for him. What she told herself in the meantime was something he'd never considered before. She could have told herself or anyone else anything that she could live with.

She couldn't do that this time though. She'd seen too much and her imagination would fill in the rest. She'd know what kind of a son of a bitch he really was. Why the fuck would she want him to come back after that?

He pulled on jeans and a t-shirt.

He'd even thought about asking Conlon what the frail had been up to the past few days, but that idea had been dismissed quickly. The other mutant might be useful for some things, but he was thick as shit when it came to understanding the frail. Besides, asking Conlon would have meant admitting his doubts. Out loud. To a third party.

It'd make him look fucking weak.

He finished dressing and tossed the towel into the orange plastic basket in the bathroom. Then he made his way through the twisting corridors.

The whole thing had been wrong from the start. Doomed to end because she found out what he was and couldn't deal with the reality. He knew that the first time he fucked her. He couldn't have something normal. Normal wasn't for animals like him.

Creed emerged through the concealed door at the garage level of the apartment and stared at the elevator for a long moment before he actually crossed the harshly lit space and got into it. He turned off the arrival signal and started the elevator moving.

What he would do when she rejected him was a mystery to Creed. Part of him wanted to let her go if that's what she needed. Part of him wanted to kill her. Which part would win would depend on the moment.

The doors slid open with a soft sigh of well-tuned mechanics. The apartment was dim and silent and the scent of tears and anxiety teased at him. His chest hurt as he stepped out and let the doors close behind him. He focused on the scent and silently moved toward the source. The frail was curled up on the sofa near the TV. She lay on her side, wearing one of his shirts, and covered by one of his jackets. Exhaustion and streaks of tears marred her face. Even though she was asleep, anxiety still pounded with every beat of her heart.

The ache in his chest grew as he stood there and watched her. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. He sat down on the sofa next to her. She stirred, but didn't wake up.

His hand hesitated for a moment, then he stroked her cheek the tips of his claws barely making contact with her silky skin.

This time, she woke up. She sat up quickly, her eyes were wide, but there was no fear in them, just something he could only label disbelief. The anxiety vanished from her scent, and was replaced with sweet vanilla.

She reached out to him and Creed pulled her close, his mouth finding hers in a soft kiss. Her body molded to his, her hands stroking his back.

All of his doubts evaporated in the heat and certainty of that contact. She was his mate. That wouldn't change. He tugged the jacket out from between them and pulled her closer.

* * *

At first, Kelly was sure she was dreaming. Victor wouldn't be sitting next to her watching her sleep. Why would he? He wasn't coming back. While her heart pounded she waited for the image to shatter. When it didn't, she reached out. She was tentative, he wasn't. Before Kelly could think, his mouth was on hers. Thinking about anything seemed like a waste of time after that.

She got lost in the taste of his mouth and the way he teased her with the rough part of his tongue. Her hands wandered over his back and shoulders, reveling in the familiar slopes of his muscles and aching for the feeling of his skin against hers. A soft growl rumbled from his chest and he pulled her closer. Kelly straddled his lap, her mouth still on his. Her head spun when he picked her up, but she didn't know if that was from the motion or just the fact the effect Victor always had on her.

He started up the stairs and nipped her lower lip. Kelly's legs tightened around him and she rubbed herself against his erection. He groaned and squeezed her bottom, pulling her closer. One hand moved under the hem of her shirt and tore through the sides of her panties. He dropped the offending scrap of fabric on the stairs and kept walking.

It seemed to take ages to get to bed. By the time they did, there was a throbbing ache between Kelly's legs. She moved one hand between their bodies and worked at the buttons of the shirt. By the time he set her down, Kelly shrugged out of her last remaining garment and gasped for breath.

Victor watched her, a fang-baring grin spreading across his face. Kelly blushed and slid back, making room for him. He moved over her, his mouth softening, trailing kisses from her mouth down her neck to her collarbone. His fingers teased the peaks of her nipples.

Kelly was beyond thinking. Her hands stroked over his head and down his neck into the collar of his shirt and down his back, aching for the feeling of his skin beneath her fingers. He growled again and started teasing her right nipple with the rough side of his tongue. The little bud was already sensitive; the intense attention made Kelly whimper and squirm. Victor held her still, mischief dancing in his eyes. He put a light kiss on the swollen peak, then in the valley between her breasts. He smiled up at her and traced the margin of her nipple with the sharp tip of one claw.

A needy little whimper escaped her throat and she raised her hips against him. He chuckled softly and began his assault on her other nipple, leaving it throbbing on the line between shattering pleasure and enough pain to bring tears to her eyes. Just before her whimpers turned into incoherent begging, he placed a soothing kiss on her tender flesh and trailed those light kisses down over her stomach.

Kelly's body responded. She opened herself to him, exposing her tenderest places without a second thought to the assault that would come from that tongue. He held her legs wide and started pressing teasing licks and kisses against her dripping sex.

His tongue delved past her lower lips driving her to the edge with fleeting, velvety touches. Desire had grown to aching need. Kelly reached for his head and lifted her hips. The insistence of her need was no match for the strength of his resolve. He kept teasing, bumping into that sensitive little button just enough to keep her on the edge. Kelly was sure that she'd slipped into a space outside of time where nothing existed except the coiled tension in her lower tummy and the man who kept tightening the spring.

Without warning, Victor's lips captured that little nub and he sucked firmly. Release hit Kelly with a force that tore a scream from her throat. The world contracted to nothing more than a bubble of pleasure around her and stayed there, suspended for what seemed like forever. After that encapsulated eternity, she felt his mouth moving up her body. This time, when she touched his shoulder she felt only bare skin. His mouth found hers and she tasted herself on his lips. Kelly raised her hips and her hands drifted down over his back to his hips, seeking more connection.

He shifted so that his broad tip was against her entrance; his eyes were locked on hers. In that moment his gaze was touching her as intimately as his manhood was. Taking her eyes off of his was unthinkable. His eyes didn't shift either, even as he pushed inside her slowly.

Kelly was lost in his eyes. Her body moved with his, picking up his slow rhythm. The tension was coiling again. She let the moment consume her, following the growing intensity to her second release. Her eyes never left his. His gaze never wavered, not even when his own release took over.

Kelly wasn't sure how long the silence stretched between them, but she decided that it didn't really matter. She was curled against his chest. His fingers were laced in her hair. A low purr vibrated though him and into her and broke the silence from time to time. This had to be what perfection was. Pleasure. Warmth. Safety. Certainty. Afterglow. A million other things that Kelly didn't have words for. A million other things that didn't need words to be understood.

He stroked her cheek and she looked up at him, a little smile on her lips.

A little grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Hungry?"

Kelly laughed. "I missed you." Her lips grazed his chest lightly.

He chuckled and kissed her lightly. "Same old sentimental shit. Good thing I got back when I did, there might not have been any of you left." He stroked his thumb over her ribs.

Kelly studied the mat of hair on his chest. "I cook for Conlon all the time."

One fingertip traced the point of her hipbone. "You just cook it, or do you eat it too?" His voice was soft.

"I eat." A little shrug. "Some."

He sighed and kissed the top of her head. "C'mon. We're going out to dinner."

Kelly looked up at him. "Now?" A note of panic squeaked into her voice. "It's late-"

"It's only seven-thirty." A little smirk. "If you shake that pretty little ass of yours we can be out of here in an hour. You been cooped up long enough."

Kelly shifted uncertainly. Hiding had been woven into the way she lived. It was something she never really considered anymore. She'd moved from hating it to accepting it to using it as a security blanket of sorts. This was the first time she'd thought of that isolation as being over. It was a little frightening. She reminded herself that Victor would be there.

She looked up at him, a little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Gonna make me shower alone?"

He laughed. "Fuck no." He got up and grabbed her wrist.

* * *

Kelly tapped the end of her pencil against her notebook and looked at the clock again. Exactly one minute and thirty-seven seconds later than the last time she looked. She looked down at the page and tried to decipher what she'd written. Sines, cosines and tangents blended and rewove themselves into something jagged and disjointed. She closed the notebook and rubbed her eyes.

The last couple of weeks had been strange. Victor came and went at odd hours, probably to make it easier for her to keep her promise not to ask questions. When he came back, he was always freshly showered and distant. Almost too raw for anything but hours spent with alcohol and isolation. Seeing him like that made her heart hurt. Saying something about it, suggesting that it was time to let Stan go, would have upset him more. She carried the weight of the ache in silence and when he was ready to reach for her, she reached back.

Her phone rang, breaking the chain of her thoughts. She looked at it and saw her grandparents' number. Kelly put on a smile before she answered.

"Hi."

"Hi there, Hon." Her grandfather sounded happy to hear her voice, but there was something uncertain in his voice too. "I didn't interrupt you're studying, did I?"

Kelly looked at the open book, then closed it. "No. I think I stopped getting anywhere with it about twenty minutes ago. I'll work on it some more tonight when I Skype with Cassie. Is Granna on the other line?"

"No. Her ladies group has some kind of speaker this afternoon."

"I think she told me this one was the upcycler."

"The what?"

"Upcycling. From what she said it's kind of like making crafty useful things out of things you'd throw away."

He groaned. "Terrific."

Kelly laughed softly. "It's supposed to be very environmentally friendly, and economical."

"Not the way your grandmother will approach it." He sighed and the heaviness of a few minutes before was back in his voice. "Anyway, I called when she was out because I wanted to you know ahead of time."

Kelly sat up, her mind raced. "Is it Cody? Conlon gave me an update this morning; he didn't say anything was wrong."

"It is Cody, but not like that. Stan's been officially missing for two weeks. The lawyer tells me that now would be the best time to petition for temporary custody. Because Stan never legally adopted you kids and because your mother's not able to take care of him we've got a decent shot. Someone has to be able to make medical decisions." From the sound in his voice, there was more. Kelly waited. He sighed. "I wanted to tell you before anything happened. I didn't want you to feel like your grandmother and I are trying to take anything away from you."

It took Kelly a moment to process that. "But we talked about this. I always expected Cody to live with you and Granna."

"I know, but that was just talk. Something that might happen someday if certain things lined up."

"I don't know about it being all talk. I think Victor would have done it if everything else hadn't gotten so crazy. I guess things have changed but my life is still too…" She shook her head. "Cody's going to wake up and he'll need stability when he does."

"There's something else. The lawyer says we have a good chance, but that we'd have an even better chance if you were to come out of hiding."

Kelly was silent for a long moment. "Even if I wanted to, I'm dead. Technically."

"Stan identified the body as yours and used connections to push the declaration through. With proof, the court could reverse that."

"But to talk about Stan in court, in front of anyone who happened to be there. I don't know if I could do it."

"This would be heard in family court. Proceedings are closed to the public. I know it's a lot to ask."

Kelly sighed. "It's for Cody. Let me think about it?"

"Sure." A silence stretched between them. "Can I ask something else?"

Something about the question made her squirm. "You know you can."

"Why do you sound so unhappy."

Kelly sighed and tried to figure out how much was safe to say. The whole truth wasn't something she couldn't put words to. Not yet, maybe not ever. She wouldn't be able to get a clever lie past her lips either.

"Kelly, I know that Stan didn't decide to run off to Tahiti."

Relief washed through her. She took a deep breath. "I knew what Victor was going to do, not specifically or anything, but I had a good general idea. Now though…"

"The certainty of what you know bothers you."

Her eyebrows drew together, considering that. "No, not really." She took a deep breath. "I know it probably should. Stan might be an oxygen theif, but he's a human being."

"Technically."

She gave a short laugh, but there was no real humor in the flat tone. "Whatever happens, Stan has it coming." She drew her knees up a little more. "It isn't really about him anyway."

"It's about Victor." There was a tightness in his voice.

"Not like that."

"Kelly, the way Victor is-"

"Stop, please!" Tears stung her eyes. "I just need to be able to say this. I can't say it to Cassie because to her Victor is just a monster from a fairy tale. I can't talk to Granna because the minute I try to say anything she gets upset and I can practically hear her wringing her hands. I can't even talk to Victor because I know he won't hear it the way I mean it."

"I'm listening, honey."

She took a deep breath and tried to find the right words. "He doesn't tell me when he's going to leave. I always know though because he gets so tense. Not the same kind of tense he would get when he would leave other times. This is more like he hates where he's going and what he's going to do when he gets there. When he comes back, he won't even look at me for hours. I know it's all my fault. If it weren't for me he wouldn't feel like he had to keep Stan around-"

"Kelly, that's not true."

"But you haven't seen him."

"I don't have to."

Kelly sighed. "I don't understand."

"The things Victor does - the things I used to do – " He took a deep breath. "When you have no ties, it's easier because you don't have anyone to shield. When you do, you learn to build walls around certain areas of your life. You keep the two halves as far apart as you can because you know that they can't exist together. Like night and day, it's one or the other. Victor knows how to live with the job when he's alone. He's only starting to figure out how to protect you from it."

"I thought he had to hide it all the time, from everyone." Kelly's voice was soft.

"It's different. Those other people don't really matter to him, do they?"

A little shrug. "No."

"A few growls and a well-placed menacing look makes it's easy to keep them away. You matter to him. He's finding it harder to hide the parts of himself he needs to and share the parts of himself that he wants to."

Kelly decided to risk another question. "Was that hard for you too? Keeping the two parts of your lives separate?"

"There were times when I couldn't see your grandmother. I had leave, I could have gone, but I knew that if she looked me in the eye, she would have known. I couldn't expose her to that."

"So you stayed away."

"And got out as soon as I could."

"Victor's never been like this before though."

"I'm not asking for specifics, but he had to travel then?"

Her eyebrows drew together. "Well, yeah. What's that got to do with it?"

"He went through it. You just weren't around to see it." His voice was reasonable, calm.

Kelly felt some of the tension uncoiling in her chest. "I'm like mom, aren't I? Every little thing sends me over the edge."

He gave a soft laugh. "You're young and you've coped with more in the last few months than most people ever will in a lifetime. The fact that we can have this conversation means you're nowhere near the edge."

She smiled. "Thanks." Her voice was soft. "For listening and for what you said. I know you don't talk about that part of your life."

"Anything for my favorite granddaughter."

* * *

Kelly and Victor lay face to face in bed, their limbs were tangled in sheets and blankets and in each other. The intense passion of a few moments before had morphed into an equally intense closeness. They shared warmth, shared breath, shared that slice of time when time itself doesn't matter. His tongue teased over her lips. Her fingers twined with his. She closed her eyes and rested against his bicep. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply. The silence stretched a little longer.

He tapped on the side of her head with one clawed finger. "What's goin' on in there frail?"

She looked up at him and smiled a little. "Just enjoying the moment." She moved a little closer to him.

"Nah." He teased her nipple with his thumb. It hardened under the light touch. He smirked. "Well, maybe some, but that ain't all."

"Grandpa called me today." She told him about Cody and the lawyer's suggestion that she come out of hiding.

He stayed silent while she spoke, but Kelly could feel the tension building in his muscles. He rolled over onto his back and brought her with him, holding her head against his shoulder. "No."

She lifted her head to look at him. "No? But if everything stays private-"

He pulled her head back down. "It won't, frail. Shit like this never does. 'Specially since Stan's fat ass was all over the fucking news talking about you bein' dead."

She was hovering between anger and tears. "But-"

"But nothing. You're not going to do it. Not this way."

Tension crept into her shoulders. "Without my identity I can't do anything. I can't even go to college. I can't travel anywhere-"

"I didn't say you were gonna hide forever. All's I said was that it wasn't gonna happen this way. There're too many ways for this to turn to shit." His fingers rubbed at the knot that had formed at the back of her neck.

"But they might not get Cody." Her voice was small. Arguing with Victor always bordered on frightening. This was too important to her to try and protect his feelings or herself. Tension fluttered through his chest and then dissipated.

His fingers worked through her hair. "Stan ain't the only one with influence. Judges like to give the impression that they're so fucking upstanding. They got problems too. More often than you'd like to think, they call me. They'll get Cody, but you ain't goin' anywhere near that fucking courtroom."

She arched against him, caught between relief and dread. "I don't want to hide the rest of my life." There was a soft determination in her voice. "Stan wanted me out of the world. If I hide, he gets what he wants."

He let the tips of his claws trail down her back. "I'm the one who got you dead. I'll get you back again."

She looked up at him. "How?"

His eyebrows drew together. "How? How the fuck should I know how? I get rid of people; I don't get 'em back." He smiled a little, his eyes on hers. "That don't mean I can't do it."

She kissed his shoulder. "If anyone can, it's you."

He chuckled. "You're only saying that because you want me to fuck you again." His mouth found hers.

Kelly's fingers drifted down over his belly, then lower. That wasn't why she'd said it, but it was as good a way as any to get lost for a few minutes.

* * *

Creed looked down at the sleeping frail. This was the twenty-eighth time he'd left her. Each time it was harder. Each time he hated Stan a little more. Each time he was amazed that he could hate Stan more than he already did. The frail shifted in bed and sighed in her sleep. He knew that if he watched her any longer he would get undressed and get back in bed with her.

His steps were silent on the stairs. Even after he got downstairs he didn't bother turning on the lights. He looked toward the elevator, then went back to the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge. He turned on one of the pendant lights over the sink and leaned back against the counter, staring off into the dim room.

Things should have been heading toward normal. Joe had temporary custody of the kid, even without any extra intervention. If Stan didn't show, that had a good chance of being made permanent. The frail's exams were coming up, and he'd made reservations at the Cavinder. He hadn't told her yet. He figured he'd do that tomorrow. As usual, Stan was fucking that up too. He should have been thinking about a long weekend with the frail someplace where he could actually breathe. Instead, all he could think of was who was going to watch over the motherfucker while he was gone.

Creed took a long drink of the beer and glanced at the stack of books on the counter. He picked up the small one on top and opened it to the page she had marked. A little smile curled the corners of his lips as his eyes scanned the words. Creed leaned back against the counter and read through the short story from beginning to end. When he finished, he put the book inside his coat and walked toward the elevator. There was a little smile on his face and a new spring in his step.

* * *

Creed leaned on the wall and watched Stan struggle weakly against the cuffs holding him to the chair in the white room where Kelly had seen him last. Well, to be honest, it wasn't white anymore. It was splattered with Stan's blood and various other fluids. The scents blended, so did the colors on the walls and the floor. It was a room filled with nightmares made physical.

"Shut up." Creed said. His voice was laced with exhaustion.

Stan looked up. One of his eyes was swollen shut. The other was in almost the same state. His mangled nose sat at an odd angle. He was missing several teeth from the last talk they'd talked. Blood and spit was still dripping down his chin. The rest of him was just as damaged, but none of it was enough to kill him. Tremors ran through his body, but he was silent.

Creed walked slowly in front of him. "You ever read, Stan? I don't mean that religious shit, I mean classic stuff."

Stan mumbled something incomprehensible. It might have been an answer, it might not have been. Creed didn't really care.

He stopped and looked into the mangled face. "I'll take that as a no." He started moving again. "The frail reads a lot. Today, I was standing in my kitchen having a beer and trying to get myself to leave her again. I ever tell you how much I fucking hate that?"

Stan mumbled something incoherent that might have been an apology.

"Seems like lately no matter what I'm doin', I'm not really there. I'm thinking about you." The back of a fist caught Stan across the jaw. If the chair hadn't been bolted to the floor, it would have flipped over. Creed kept walking, kept his tone conversational, despite the whimpering cries from the direction of the chair. "And that got me thinking. Since I met the frail, you been right square in the middle of my fucking bed. She's been scared of you, pissed off at you, having nightmares about you, all kinds of shit like that. Now that she's finally starting to let you go, I can't seem to. What the fuck do you think that's all about?"

Stan hid his face and trembled. "Please please please…" He repeated it under his breath like a mantra.

Creed ignored it. "That's were reading comes in. So, while I'm standing there, drinking my beer and trying to make myself walk out the door, I started flipping through one of the frail's books and I found a certain little story by Edgar Allen Poe." He pulled it out of his coat and opened it.

Stan's trembling eased. The fear was still in his scent, but there was a note of curiosity there too.

Creed went on. "See there's this guy named Montresor and this other asshole named Fortunato. Fortunato has been pissing Montresor off for a long fucking time and he finally does something so fucking outrageous that Montresor can't take it anymore. Poe doesn't say what it was that Fortunato's did, but I figure it was something to do with Montresor's mate. So, Montresor decides he's gonna get his revenge." He lifted the book. " '_AT LENGTH __I would be avenged; this was a point definitively settled - but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish, but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser.'_" He looked up. "I got the 'punish with impunity' thing down. Where I got stuck is the retribution overtaking the redresser idea." Creed smiled, baring his fangs. "Old Edgar has a solution for that too." He closed the book and tucked it back inside his coat.

Stan let out a high-pitched whine. He started shaking his head and started babbling apologies and entreaties. The scent of his terror saturated the room.

"Oh shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn life." Creed walked over to the door and opened it. "See, Montresor figured out how to make Fortunato suffer a whole hell of a lot without taking himself away from his life. All he needed was a good story about some wine, some bricks and some mortar. Pretty fucking smart, huh?"

Confusion drew spicy ribbons through the heavy scent of fear. "Wh-what?"

Creed rolled his eyes. "You really are fucking stupid. Guess you'll have a little while to think about it though. Course, since this is the last time I'll ever see you, I won't know if you ever figured it out. Then again, I don't really give a shit."

Confusion and fear filled the small space. Creed smiled. "Bye Stan."

He shut the door behind himself turned off lights as he made his way down the twisting hallway. The further away he got, the freer he felt.

_**Quote taken from "A Cask of Amontillado" by Edgar Allen Poe as posted on an online literature site._


	32. 32 You're a Good Man, Victor Creed

32. You're a Good Man, Victor Creed

Creed guided the SUV down the tree-lined two-lane highway with his left hand. His right rested in his lap and twitched whenever the sound of the engine told him that he needed to shift. He'd given up on trying to get completely used to automatic transmission. He glanced over at the frail. She was flipping through the stack of homemade flashcards in her lap, trying to look like she was studying. He knew she wasn't. She was going through the cards too damn fast and her eyes were darting from the cards to the passing scenery. Every so often she shifted in the comfortable seat. The closer they got to the Cavinder, the more often she shifted.

Creed smiled a little. "Gotta take a piss, frail?"

"What?" She seemed surprised to hear his voice. A soft blush colored her cheeks. "No. Why?"

He grinned at her, one fang poked at his lower lip. "'Cause you ain't sat still for more than thirty seconds in the last hour."

Her blush bloomed prettily and she laughed. "I have."

He chuckled. "Like hell."

"Well, maybe I've been fidgeting a little." She put a black elastic hair band around the cards and dropped them in her purse. "I guess I'm excited about seeing Granna and Grandpa." She turned toward him and stroked his right hand. "I know you're not."

The delicate touch sent a warm vibration of pleasure directly to his cock. He bit back a growl, gripped her fingers and shrugged. "Your grandfather ain't so bad. 'Sides, we'll be at opposite ends of the place."

Curiosity drew her eyebrows together. "That'll make it easier?"

"Well yeah. Least I won't be thinking about your grandmother standing around with a glass pressed to the goddamn wall every time I want to fuck you."

She laughed and stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. "I didn't think that would bother you."

"Wouldn't bother me if she was in the same goddamn room. Figure she's an old lady though, she'll wanna sleep sometime and she'll be a pain in the ass if she doesn't get her eight hours."

She smirked. "That's all you ever think about isn't it?"

A little smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "When you touch me like that, yes." She blushed and tried to pull her hand away. He held on tighter. "Didn't say I didn't like it."

"You're driving."

"So? I can multitask." He nipped the inside of her wrist.

"Or," She teased his palm with one fingertip. "We could wait until we get there and actually be comfortable. We're only half an hour away, right?"

Fucking frail, she knew just how to touch him and he loved every goddamn minute of it. He grinned and stepped on the gas. "Fifteen minutes."

* * *

Kelly was sure that there was something about being in an unfamiliar place that made Victor even more randy than usual. It probably had something to do with showing ownership or establishing territory or something like that. If she were honest, she couldn't care less why, she just enjoyed it.

She kept her eyes on their entwined fingers and tried to ignore the speed at which the springtime scenery was slipping past. His hand dwarfed hers. The way his claws teased over her skin sent familiar shivers down her spine and an insistent, heavy warmth began to develop in her lower tummy. Much as she wanted to see her grandparents, she hoped that they were late.

When Victor turned into the Cavinder parking lot, Kelly's hopes for a few moments alone with him disappeared. Her grandfather was taking a bag out of the back of a blue rental car. A purer kind of excitement surged in her chest and her heart started to beat faster. Victor parked next to him.

Kelly looked at him. "Sorry. I was hoping-"

"Go on." She started to pull away, but he gripped her hand tighter. A little grin quirked the corner of his mouth. "I'll just fuck you 'til you scream later." He let her go

"Promise?" She grinned at him and got out of the vehicle before he could answer. "Perfect timing." She said to her grandfather.

"Kelly!" Her grandfather dropped the bag on the ground and wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet. "God it's good to see you."

Kelly laughed. "It's good to see you too, now put me down!"

"Your wish is my command." He set her on her feet again.

"Where's Granna? Is she already inside?"

He gripped her hands and lowered his eyes. Then he looked up at her again. "Kelly, your grandmother thinks that Cody could wake up any minute. I've tried to tell her that isn't exactly true and so have the doctors, but you know how she is once she gets something in her head."

Kelly was certain that all the air was suddenly gone. "She's not here?" She pulled her hands away.

"It was a last-minute decision." He reached for her again.

She stepped back. "I talked to her last night. She said she was packing." Her head was spinning. Anger, disbelief and hurt twined together in a ragged knot.

"Kelly-"

She shook her head, started toward the building and then turned back. "He doesn't even know her! Cody hasn't seen either one of you since he was a baby. He might as well wake up next to a stranger. That's what it'll feel like to him." The anger was working its way out of the tangle.

"I tried to tell her that!" The pain in his voice made it brittle. The sound cracked, so did Kelly's anger.

She took a deep breath and with it came clarity. "She doesn't want to see me."

"That isn't it." He tried to sound convincing and failed.

Victor walked between them, carrying their bags. He took her arm on the way by. "C'mon, frail. 'F you two are gonna hash this out I need a drink." She looked over her shoulder. Her grandfather was following.

* * *

Creed sat the frail in a comfortable chair in the small bar. She told him she didn't want anything. He got her a strawberry lemonade. She forced a smile and took a sip just to please him.

He went back to the desk to check in. The female clerk had a decidedly feline scent, but her golden eyes were the only giveaway that she was anything other than human. He ignored her and turned to study a wooden rack of scenic postcards.

"Two guests Mr. Demmer?"

"Ah, no. Just one."

The girl tapped the keys.

"Can't control your own mate." Creed's voice was low and dangerous.

"What would you have done? Hogtied her and threw her in the trunk of the car?" The old man's eyes were on a large map of the trail system around the inn.

"That's only for special occasions." He listened while the clerk asked Joe to sign the register. The pen scratched against the paper and Joe slide the register back across the desk. The clerk handed him a key and told him how to get to his room. He tossed a credit card in front of the clerk. "Creed. Two people in the suite at other end of place from him."

She took the card and tapped a few keys.

"That's my granddaughter you're talking about and I don't find that funny." His voice was tight.

"It ain't very fucking funny. That girl wouldn't ask for water if she was on fire. That's how she is. She takes whatever shit comes at her and she lives with it." The clerk handed him the register and the pen. Creed's bold signature covered three lines. "She ain't gonna say shit, but for some reason that judgmental old woman is important to her. You think about that before you say anything to her." He looked at the clerk. "Key?"

She slid two keys with brass fobs across the desk with a professional smile. "One for you, one for the lady. Take the stairs to the third floor. If you turn to the right it's the door marked Tamarack. If you prefer an elevator-"

"No. Got someone to take the bags up?"

"Of course." Another practiced smile.

"Good. We'll be in the bar." He walked into the quiet, dark paneled room and handed a key to the frail. He ordered a beer and sat at the bar. His instinct was to protect her from it all. That wouldn't do her a damn bit of good though. She was just starting to get her confidence back, if he hovered now it would fuck all that up. He took a long swallow of the beer and watched out of the corner of his eye as the old man stumbled through some kind of half-assed reassurance.

He watched Kelly go silent. For a long moment he thought that would be it. That she would just accept whatever he said. She turned to look the old man in the eye. "She's going to have to figure out a way to deal with me. Cody is my brother and awake or asleep I intend to be in his life. She can either keep running away, or she can figure out how to be civil."

Creed was sure he caught a flicker of a smile on the old man's face. Creed's grin was broad as he turned back to his beer.

* * *

Kelly relaxed back into Victor's chest. The jets were off in the Jacuzzi tub. The lights were dim in the blue and white bathroom. The anger from earlier had been driven out by afterglow and hot water. It wasn't gone, but dwelling on it wasn't going to do anybody any good and it wasn't going to change anything.

His hand drifted over her stomach. "Wanna have something sent up for dinner?"

She smiled and laced her fingers with his. "We have a reservation downstairs."

"So? You think they're gonna throw us out if we cancel?"

"No, but I think grandpa would be hurt if we just don't show."

"You could call him." His hand moved up and cupped a breast.

Her nipple hardened against his palm. "I could, but after what happened earlier he'll think I'm still upset."

"You are." He tugged lightly on her nipple.

She turned a little, but the denial wouldn't come out. She settled back into him again. "Okay, so I am. It's not really about him though. He's just the one who's stuck in the middle. I am sorry I got so upset outside though."

"I'm glad you did."

A short laugh. "You like to watch me make a scene?"

He massaged her lower tummy with his knuckles. "You don't have to take shit just because somebody wants to dish it out. Just 'cause that someone is family don't make a bit of difference."

A smile curled the corner of her lips. One hand stroked his thigh under the water. "Maybe."

A soft purr. "No fucking maybes about it."

"Anyway, at this point I'm too relaxed to be anything but pleasant."

He chuckled. "Telling me I gotta keep you tired all week to keep you calm?"

She looked at him and smirked. "I have to study sometime and I have to be kind of awake for the two midterms. That's why we're here in the first place."

"Tangent squared theta plus one is equal to?"

"Secant squared theta, but-"

"But nothin'. You're ready."

He kissed her before she had a chance to protest. Once his tongue was wrapped around hers, she forgot what she was going to say.

* * *

Kelly smoothed her hair back in a matte silver barrette and pulled a fitted charcoal gray tweed blazer on over the cream turtleneck. Victor was sitting by the fireplace doing his best not to pay attention to her getting ready.

"You gonna fuss all fucking morning?" There was a growl under the comment, but Kelly knew him well enough to know that it wasn't really directed at her.

"We have plenty of time." She smoothed on some berry colored lipstick.

He looked over at her. "You ain't gonna change what they think of me, frail." His voice was softer.

"I'm trying to change what they think of me." Kelly stepped into the low black heels.

"You? They probably got a room ready for you."

She sorted through her purse, making sure she had everything. "That's the point."

His eyebrows drew together. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Kelly met his eyes. "The last time I went through those gates I was wrapped up in your coat, covered in blood and bruises and mostly dead. Now, every time anybody talks to me on the phone or sees me on Skype they look at me like I'm this broken thing. Something that won't heal without their help, whether I want it or not."

Anger stiffened his muscles. "And if you weren't broken, you'd run a fucking mile from me."

She sat next to him on the stone fireplace surround and waited for him to look down at her. "That isn't true. You know it isn't true."

He looked away. "You know what I do-"

"And I know what you did for me. You could have left me in the woods where you found me. You could have let me walk out the next day, or done anything awful thing to me afterward. You could have given me up for dead when we were ambushed. After that, when you found me you took me to people you can't stand because you knew that I'd have a chance to recover there." She stopped, letting her words sink in. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Kelly took his hand. "You put up with my nightmares and my insecurities. You believe that I can be more than a broken thing and you made me believe it. Whatever else you are Victor Creed, you also have the capacity to be a very good man."

He looked at her curiously and a long silence stretched between them. "Say that again. The last part."

She held his eyes. "I said that you can be a very good man."

He was silent, his eyes on her fingers entwined with his. He brought it to his mouth, scenting her skin. His eyes were closed, lost in the connection, his body leaning into hers. Kelly was sure that she could see a tremor in his hand. She gripped it tighter and leaned forward to let her head against his. His other hand cradled the back of her head. She wrapped her other hand around his. Kelly was certain that she could stay in that moment forever.

A knock on the door registered on the edge of her consciousness. She brushed it aside. When it came again, she couldn't ignore it.

"Grandpa." Her voice was a whisper. She didn't move.

He bumped his forehead against hers.

Kelly brushed her lips over his. "I have to let him in." Her voice was still a whisper. She moved to get up, but he shook his head.

"No. I'll go." He got up, but didn't let go until the distance meant that he couldn't hold on anymore.

* * *

Victor stared at the closed gates. A growl rose in his chest.

"They know we're coming." Joe leaned forward from the back seat. "Is there a bell or something?"

"No there ain't a fucking bell. The old man knows damn well we're here." Creed gripped the wheel. He watched the frail take her phone out of her bag. "Who're you calling?"

"Hank. I don't want him to think we just didn't show."

"He knows exactly what's goin' on. Put it away." Creed pulled out his own phone. "I'm gonna call the old man."

Creed could feel his anger rising as he waited for the supercilious bastard to answer. Motherfucker was keeping him waiting on purpose.

"Charles Xavier." The voice was cool and smug.

Creed didn't bother to bite back the snarl. "And this is the fucking tooth fairy. You gonna open the goddamn gate?"

"Good morning to you too."

Creed rolled his eyes. "Good morning Milord. I hope you've had a most pleasant night's repose and a satisfactory breakfast. Pleasant civilities out of the way now? Might we be admitted to your stunning presence?"

"Mr. Demmer and Kelly are expected. You are not." There was practiced disinterest in the voice.

"Seems like I remember telling you that when the frail was on your grounds, I would be too."

"When Kelly was testing, yes. I don't recall saying that you were welcome anytime."

"I don't figure I'm ever welcome. I do know you're itching to talk to Joe and see the frail again though. That means you put up with me bein' around for a few hours. I'm sure you can have any patch of carpet I happen to stand on roped off and disinfected."

"Perhaps I could speak to Mr. Demmer."

"Whatever." He shoved the phone at Joe. The frail looked on curiously.

The old man took it. "Professor Xavier." He was silent, listening.

Creed could see the other man's jaw start to tighten. When she spoke again, his voice was calm and even with a strong undertone of pissed off. "I'll put it like this Professor, I'm not entirely convinced that your doctor can help my grandson. I know he helped Kelly, but even she says that was a fluke. Frankly I don't know if I'm willing to gamble with the little bit of ground he is gaining for a maybe. I'm willing to listen, but I'm not going to beg and I'm not going to leave Victor sitting out here like he's a second class citizen." The old man was silent for a moment, then he handed the phone back to Creed.

"Well?" Creed said

"I'll arrange an escort for you."

Creed ended the call and waited. The gate slid open. He drove slowly down the lane to the mansion. The runt was standing on the stairs looking like he'd rather be anyplace else. The ape stood behind him, the old man was on the other side.

The frail got out and the runt managed a little smile. Creed hung back and fought the surge of jealousy that lengthened his claws. He watched the frail smile and give warm greetings and make introductions. He could see what she meant about how they looked at her. He could tell that she saw it too, but she ignored it. A little smile touched his lips. She smiled and walked toward him.

"I don't think this will take any more than an hour or so."

Jimmy and the ape were staring at them. The professor was chatting with Joe, but his eyes were on the frail. Creed didn't give a shit. "I'm sure Jimmy's got instructions to keep me as far away from the mansion as possible. Call me when you're done."

She nodded and stood on her toes. He leaned down and kissed her. Kelly looked up at him and laughed.

"What?"

"You have a little of my lipstick." She reached up and wiped her thumb over his lower lip.

He grinned. "Like it better when you don't wear any." He nodded in the direction of the steps. "Go on."

She clasped his hand for a long moment, then walked toward the ape and her grandfather. Jimmy walked over next to him. Creed didn't take his eyes off the frail until she was through the door. He took a deep breath. "C'mon Runt. Can't leave me lingering too long among the righteous and worthy. God knows what they'll catch." He started toward one of the wooded paths.

* * *

Kelly and her grandfather sat on one side of Hank's desk. He sat on the other side with Professor. She got the distinct impression that the battle lines had been drawn. On the way to the office, there had been pleasantries and small talk. Now a thick silence filled the room. Her grandfather was the first to speak.

"Did you get my grandson's medical records, Dr. McCoy?"

"I did, thank you. His injuries were quite extensive."

"Stan's a vicious bastard, but Cody's a strong kid." Her grandfather said.

"Strong will seems to run in the family." Professor Xavier said. "Speaking of which, I wonder if we might have a talk about Kelly."

Kelly opened her mouth to speak, but her grandfather grabbed her hand. He smiled. "I know that Kelly is safe, happy, healthy and getting good grades. Is there something more?"

"How much do you know about Sabertooth?" The professor asked.

"Victor." Kelly corrected firmly. Her eyes were locked on the professor's.

He nodded. "How much do you know about Victor Creed?"

Her grandfather's smile never wavered. "You can't tell how much I know?"

"Your mind is quite closed and has been since you've been on my grounds."

Her grandfather's eyes sharpened. "As closed as my military records were?"

"You investigated my grandfather?" Kelly was angry, but not surprised.

"I have a responsibility to my students, Kelly." The professor said.

"You have a built in excuse for snooping you mean." Kelly's anger throbbed through her temples.

"What do you make of the fact that you didn't get anywhere?" Her grandfather asked.

The professor took a deep breath and studied her grandfather for a long moment. "I'm not entirely sure. With my connections and clearances I should have access to almost everything. Perhaps your connections are better than mine."

Her grandfather chuckled. "I doubt that. The government doesn't like to be reminded of what I did for my country and it certainly doesn't like anyone else finding out about it." He crossed his legs. "I also have a good friend who keeps me informed if anyone should get too nosy for their own good."

"And you think that gives you a kind of inside understanding of Victor." The professor said, placing unnatural emphasis on the name.

"No. I think the fact that I worked with him gives me a pretty damn good insight into Victor."

A ripple of surprise went through the room. Kelly suppressed a little smile.

Hank took off his glasses. "Are you saying that-"

"I did all the same things that he does. I saw what he did to his targets with my own eyes, so if you're about to read me a list of everything he's done you can save your breath. When I knew him before, he was a cold bastard who didn't have an ounce of feeling for anyone or anything. Frankly, I didn't think he was capable of it."

"Then you know why I'm so concerned." The professor said.

Her grandfather nodded. "A year ago I would've agreed with you."

Hank looked curious. "What changed your mind?"

"Before Victor brought Kelly to see us, he met me alone at a bar." He looked at Kelly. "I'm not sure if he told you."

She smiled. "Not until after. I didn't even know he'd found you."

"You didn't tell him about your grandparents?" Hank asked.

"Of course I did. And I told him that I hadn't seen them since my mother married Stan. He encouraged me to try and find them. I wasn't having any luck, so I guess Victor took over." Kelly said.

The professor's eyes narrowed.

Her grandfather went on. "When I met him in that bar, I thought he wanted money to give Kelly back unharmed." Joe shook his head. "You should have seen the look on his face when I made that suggestion. It was almost like I tried to feed him something disgusting."

"I'm certain that look was well practiced." The professor said.

Her grandfather shook his head. "This was different. When he talked about Kelly, it was first time I'd ever seen anything in his eyes other than malice and indifference. I had almost convinced myself that I didn't see it, but then Kelly called. He brought her to see us. Put up with visiting and small talk. Would the Victor Creed you knew do that for anyone?"

"Sabretooth isn't able to fully control the animal side of himself." The professor said. "He might try for a time, but he doesn't have the ability to do so for more than a short time."

Kelly couldn't take anymore. "So you treat him like an animal and you're surprised when he acts like one."

The professor's placid expression didn't change. "I'm not sure I know what you-"

She gripped the arms of the chair to keep from shaking. "You know exactly what I mean. Either that or you shouldn't be allowed within ten miles of impressionable children."

Anger simmered in his eyes, but never touched any of his other features. "You blame me for his choices."

Kelly's gaze never wavered. "I think the fact that you won't even use his name speaks volumes." Kelly took a deep breath and leaned forward a little. "You call him Sabretooth, you tell him that he's an animal, a killer who doesn't understand decency or empathy because those are human feelings and he isn't human. Well I have a newsflash for you. I don't think I've ever met Sabretooth. The _man_ who nursed me through nightmares and trauma, who I've eaten with and laughed with and slept with, is Victor Creed." She smiled a little. "He's short tempered and ill-mannered and most of the time he has no idea how to be comforting when I need it, but he tries. I can't think of anything more human than that. So I'm not going to listen to any more lectures. I'm not going to pretend to ignore any more thinly-veiled inferences and I'm not going to go out of my way to prove to you that I don't need to be rescued. I'm Victor's mate. That isn't going to change. Accept it or don't, but move on." She sat back in the chair.

Silence filled the room like noxious smoke. Her grandfather smiled a little. "Can we talk about my grandson now?"

The professor opened his mouth to say something, but Hank cut him off. "Yes, we certainly can."

* * *

Creed followed Jimmy's scent through the thickest part of springtime woods. The frail's words had been ringing in his head, distracting him from the silent run. She'd said he could be a good man. Him. After all she knew and everything she'd been told. And what the fuck was that supposed to mean anyway? That if he tried hard enough, he could look at the world and see pink hearts and roses everyplace? That he would suddenly want to stop drinking and swearing and all the other shit that got him dirty looks from polite people?

He stopped. Jimmy was waiting on the other side of the rise. Whatever the fuck she'd meant by it, the frail believed he could do it. Believed he could figure out how to do it in his own way. Maybe he could. He just knew that hearing her say it had taken his breath away and those words hadn't stopped echoing in his head since. He went over the rise and settled onto a rock above Jimmy.

"Took you long enough." Jimmy said.

Creed shrugged. "Didn't see you making much of an effort."

"Nobody told me I was going to be entertaining you this morning." Jimmy turned his head away.

"Think this was my idea of a good time?" He lay on his back. The bright blue sky through the network of nearly bare, silhouetted branches reminded him of stained glass.

"Told Chuck he should let you in."

Creed didn't turn his head. "Bullshit."

"What the fuck ever."

Creed glanced at him. Jimmy was staring off into the trees. The runt was a damn good liar, but even he had his tells. Creed wasn't seeing any of them. "Son of a bitch, you did." His eyebrows drew together. "Why?"

Jimmy shrugged. His eyes were still on the trees. "You know Kelly chats with Cassie every night."

"Yeah. They do homework and shit." Creed looked up at the sky again.

"And every night somebody just happens to stop by to see how she is. Sometimes me, sometimes Ro, whoever can make up an excuse that doesn't sound too much like an excuse."

"She told me." Creed smiled a little. "Saw through it right from the start. So?"

"So every time I saw her she looked better. Chuck tried to tell me that it was just her healing factor keeping her looking healthy. I knew that was bullshit. I know happy and comfortable when I see it."

Creed clenched his fist until his claws were pressed almost deep enough to draw blood. "The old bastard's never going to see it that way."

"Ain't like I'm in his good graces at the moment anyway."

Despite the direction of the wind, Creed caught the barest tang of anger from Jimmy's scent. "What'd you do, chew up his favorite pair of slippers?"

Jimmy halfway laughed. "No. I slept with Marie."

Creed shrugged a little. "So?"

Jimmy looked at him. "She's got control of her skin."

"I repeat; so? You fucked her. Do you have to turn in your balls when you sign up?"

Jimmy looked out into the trees again. "He went through about ten different ways that it was immoral, tried to make it sound illegal and when none of that worked, he started in on her fear of losing control of her mutation in a bad moment."

"Bastard's the master of the low blow. That scare her off?"

Jimmy gave a short laugh. "Would it have scared Kelly off?"

Creed chuckled. "The girl watched me get half my head shot off and kept on fighting. Some old bastard in a wheelchair ain't gonna make her blink."

"We got out of that office and Marie started packing. Managed to talk her out of it for the moment."

Creed looked down the runt. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

He took a deep breath. "Because…" He went silent for a long moment. "She has to understand before we go." Jimmy glanced up at Victor. "How did you explain to Kelly what you meant when you said she was your mate?"

Creed shrugged. "I didn't need to explain it really. I told her she was my mate and that it was permanent. The rest she just got. Intuition or some shit like that." He closed his eyes and listened to the wind chase through the trees.

"If she doesn't just get it?"

Creed looked down at the other man. His eyes narrowed. "Ninety nine percent of the words you've spoken to me in the last few decades have revolved around the phrases 'I'm gonna kill you' and 'fuck off'. Now you wanna sit here and have a goddamn "Beaches" moment?"

"And here I was thinking you were slightly less of an ass than I remembered."

Creed looked down at the runt. "How the fuck should I know what to do if she doesn't get it? Half the time I got no goddamn clue how to talk to my frail. What makes you think I have a hope in hell of knowing how to talk to yours?"

Jimmy looked at him, a little smirk twitched the corner of his mouth. "Fuck off."

Creed grinned. "I'm gonna kill ya, Runt."

Creed looked up at the sky again. "Then tell her. Don't ask. Don't explain. I guess if it's right, she'll get it. If not, call Dr. Phil, 'cause I got nothing." The cell phone on his hip started to vibrate. He checked the incoming text. "Frail's ready to go." He got up and headed back toward the mansion. Jimmy ran next to him.

* * *

The noxious tension that had infected the room left Kelly emotionally drained and with a throbbing headache. She could see the concern in Victor's eyes, but he didn't say anything. He just 'accidentally' stroked the back of her hand every chance he got. Her grandfather seemed to be almost as tired and the ride back to the Cavinder was mostly silent. As soon as they were inside, Victor led them into the dining room to a quiet table in the corner. Victor waited until the food was on the table before he said anything about the meeting.

He sliced through the first thick steak. "What'd his holiness have to say?"

"From what anybody can tell, Cody's a fair candidate for the treatment." Her grandfather said.

"That ape made it sound like there wasn't any such thing when he was describing it to me." Victor said.

"I don't know that there is." Kelly took a sip of her lemonade. "I know Hank spent a lot of time showing pictures of my genes before and after the treatment and describing what it does and what it doesn't do. Then he showed us Cody's genes and said that they were partially active, though not as much as mine had been before the treatment. He said the fact that Cody's healing factor was partially active already meant that he would have a slim chance, if he gets it."

"What do you mean, if?" Victor took a long swallow of the beer.

She looked up at her grandfather. "Apparently it's not as easy as easy as just giving it to him." Kelly said.

Victor looked at her. "Why not? I told the ape to give it to you and you were getting it ten minutes later."

Her grandfather shook his head. "The school's clinic is private and designated as a research facility because treating high-level mutants isn't always so straight forward."

Creed snorted. "So that means McCoy can turn anybody into a lab rat. Beautiful."

"He did follow the ethical guidelines." Her grandfather said.

"I suppose it also helps that I was already officially dead at the time." Kelly took a bite of her salad.

"Couldn't've fucking hurt." Victor started on his second steak. "So what kinda hoops you gotta jump through to get the kid treated?"

Her grandfather took a deep breath. "Good way to put it. The geneticist at Cody's hospital knows Dr. McCoy. That's how we got the specialized genetic profiles done so fast. We have to get Cody's doctor to recommend the treatment, then the hospital has boards and reviews that govern any experimental treatment. They tend to be extremely conservative because they're trying to protect the hospital from liability."

Victor shook his head. "Fucking bureaucracy. What do you do now?"

"Hank's contacting Cody's doctor with specifics of the formula and the facts of my case without using my name. " Kelly toyed with the last few bits of lettuce.

"Dr. Ackerly has an open mind about treating coma patients. Hopefully, it won't take too much convincing and we can move on with the rest of it." Her grandfather sipped his coffee. "It's going to take me awhile to convince Anna that this is the best way to go anyway."

Kelly set her fork down. "I'm sure that she'll get used to having another one in the family."

Her grandfather took her hand. "That's not what I meant."

She smiled and gripped his hand. "I know, but Granna isn't sure if I'm human or mutant or something else entirely and you know as well as I do that she prefers it when people fit into neat little boxes. Cody doesn't need to wake up and deal with her issues. He'll have enough of his own."

The waitress came over to the table. "Would anyone like any dessert this afternoon?"

Kelly shook her head. "No thanks-"

"Yes." Victor pointed at Kelly. "Bring the frail a slice of the chocolate cake."

The woman nodded and walked away.

Kelly shook her head. "Victor-"

"Leaves in a bowl ain't fucking lunch." He smiled a little. "'Sides, you love chocolate."

Kelly knew better than to argue. Besides, Victor had beer, she had chocolate. She smiled a little. "I'll take it upstairs then. It can be a study snack."

* * *

Creed watched the frail carry the cake upstairs. She looked fucking exhausted. He itched to get up and go with her, but he had shit to take care of first. As soon as she was out of the dining room, he looked at the old man. "Beer?"

"Sounds good."

Creed signaled the waitress, then looked back at the old man. "She's fucking exhausted."

Joe snorted. "I'm not surprised. She told the professor where to go and what to do when he got there. After that, he sat there with this look on his face like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth and the whole time the son of a bitch is glaring daggers at her and making sneaky little comments whenever he could."

Creed's eyes narrowed. "What'd she do?"

Joe smiled a little. "She didn't take the bait." He took a deep breath, his smile faded. "She shouldn't be that strong at her age."

The waitress brought the beer and took the plates away. Creed took a long swallow. "Nope. Can't help but be impressed though."

Joe nodded and took a sip of the beer.

Creed turned the beer bottle slowly on the table in front of him and studied how the light played off the brown glass. He was pissed off at Xavier, but the bastard would still be there tomorrow. The question floating around in his head meant more to him at that moment. Didn't mean he knew how to ask the fucking thing or even if Joe was the one to ask. He didn't have a hell of a lot of options though.

He turned his head and studied the still life at the other end of the room. "How'd you get out?"

Joe was quiet for a long moment. "I'm not sure what you-"

Creed looked at him. "Bullshit. You know exactly what I mean."

Joe took a sip of beer. "Lost your taste?"

A deep growl rose from Creed's chest. "You better watch your fucking mouth old man."

"Calm down." Joe didn't flinch. His voice was calm. His eyes were hard and unwavering. "Losing your taste is different from losing your balls. I have no doubt you could and would turn the next three people to walk into this room into hamburger and laugh while you were doing it if that was part of the contract, but I don't think the idea of it gets you off anymore? Am I close?"

Creed's eyes narrowed. "I'm feral and I'm a predator. Predatory ferals need to hunt. It's my fucking nature." He looked away.

"Not exactly the same." Joe took a swallow of the beer.

His shoulders twitched in a little shrug. "Guess not. It ain't about whether or not I can do a fucking job. I can. I just…" He took a deep breath. "The frail knows. She knows that when I leave I ain't going to a fucking insurance convention in Cedar Rapids."

Joe smiled a little. "You love her."

Creed shook his head. "I don't know what that means."

"Maybe you can't define it, but you feel it."

Creed growled again. "How the fuck do you know what I feel?"

Joe stared at him. "You look at her when she's just sitting there and she takes your breath away. When she hurts, you feel like there's a knife taking a slow trip through your sternum. Being without her is something you don't even want to imagine. Seeing her smile at you makes you warm and just seeing her makes you smile too. When she sleeps, you watch her. You lean in close and breathe the same air she breathes. There's nothing you wouldn't do for her. You've proved that in spades. You'll protect her from everyone, including yourself. Unless I miss my guess entirely, you haven't even looked at another woman since you found her. When you're with her you can be yourself, even when you're not being your best self." He leaned in a little closer. "How am I doing?"

Creed stared at Joe for a long moment, his mind was spinning. His eyebrows drew together. "Love ain't hearts and ponies and shit like that?"

Joe chuckled. "Not in the real world."

He thought about that for a long moment. "Every time I leave, I figure she's gonna sit home and think about what I'm gone doing and she won't be there when I get back. Why should she be? I'm an old son of a bitch with claws and fangs and more baggage than the fucking Titanic." He drained the rest of the beer.

"She loves you too." Joe said.

Creed shook his head. "The government's never gonna let me go anyway. I don't know why I'm bothering."

"Because working for the goddamn government is like making a deal with the devil. She gets that." Joe said. "If she isn't sure, I'll explain."

"So what the fuck am I supposed to do about the rest? I can't stay home all the time, that'll just drive us both nine kinds of crazy."

Joe shook his head. "You don't have to. Kelly told me about the security system you built at the apartment where you've been staying."

Suspicion narrowed Creed's eyes. "How much did she tell you?"

"Enough to know you covered all your bases and then some." Joe pulled a card out of his wallet. "This is a friend of mine. He still does government work from time to time, but mostly runs a company that builds high end systems all over the country for paranoid millionaires. He's looking for a few new private contractors."

Creed took the card. "You want me to sit in a fucking cubicle from nine to five?"

He shook his head. "Think I'd even make the suggestion if that's the kind of job it was? It's just an option."

Creed nodded and tucked the card into his shirt pocket. He would call and he would give it a shot. He might fuck it up, but at least he'd fuck it up honest.

* * *

The first thing Kelly did when she got back to the room was to change into one of Victor's shirts. She got her books and stretched out in the middle of the king sized bed. In between turning pages and reworking the practice exercises she nibbled on the chocolate cake. Victor came back just as she was starting to rub her eyes.

Victor's gaze swept over her and he gave the kind of fang-baring grin that made her pulse race and a heavy heat start to pool in her tummy. "Wearing anything under that, frail?"

She sat up and primly pulled the hem of the shirt down around her knees. A smile teased at her lips. "None of your business."

"None of my business? Really?" He walked to the edge of the bed and then started to crawl toward her. The same grin still on his face. "You're in my room. On my bed."

Kelly backed away. He pushed her books out of the way and kept advancing. "I sleep here too. And technically, you're on my side of the bed." Kelly's smile was wider.

"You wanna talk about technicalities? You're wearing my shirt." He moved over her and grabbed her wrist. Kelly found herself on her stomach with her hand in the small of her back before she could think. There was no force behind his touch. Kelly lifted her hips, but otherwise she stayed still. He put his mouth next to her ear. "And you're my mate. Guess it is my fucking business after all. Ain't it frail?" The rough edge of his tongue traced the shell of her ear.

Kelly moaned softly. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" He arched against her, rubbing his hardness against the back of her thigh. A low growl vibrated through his chest. "You sure that's your answer, frail?"

"Y-yes." She reached back with her other hand and stroked him through the denim.

"Yes?" He nipped the back of her neck lightly. "Yes that's your answer or yes it is my business?" He bit a little harder. "Gotta be specific frail."

"It is your business." Her words were a soft moan.

"That's what I thought. Stay put." He knelt next to her and traced the tips of his claws from her knees up to her hip, carrying the shirt with it and revealing her bare bottom. Kelly shivered. Victor chuckled. "Think I smell something else that belongs to me. Don't I frail?"

Kelly felt the heat of a blush rise to her cheeks. She nodded.

"Out loud, frail." He lifted the shirt higher and Kelly pulled her arms out of it.

Need buzzed inside her head. "Yes. You smell something else that belongs to you."

The tip of a single claw traced down the middle of her back and down the cleft of her bottom. Kelly shivered and moaned. He traced little designs over her trembling flesh. Kelly closed her eyes and opened her legs wider. "So get on your knees, face in the pillow and show me what else is mine."

Kelly was lost in the delicate sensation of the razor sharp claw on her skin. The words were insignificant, but eventually the pleasure fog cleared long enough for her to process what he said. Kelly moved to the edge of the bed so shifted onto her knees and opened her legs so that she was presented for him.

His knuckle made a single rough trip between her lower lips. Kelly moaned. Victor lifted his finger to his nose and inhaled deeply. He grinned and stroked her bottom. "Yeah, that's mine. Wait there like a good girl."

Kelly turned her head. He started to unbutton his shirt. The itch to touch him was too much. She started to get up but he grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her back down. "Didn't tell you to move, did I frail?"

"No."

"Now you don't get to watch." His claws tickled close to her center and moved out of her sight-line.

Kelly could hear him undressing, but no matter how she turned she couldn't see him. Between the exposure and the sounds of his clothing shifting and moving made her ache for him even more. She moved her hips and moaned softly.

Another soft tickle. "Head in the pillow frail and don't move."

Kelly put her face in the pillow and gripped handfuls of the burgundy comforter, waiting for him to enter her, or to touch her or to lick or anything. When nothing happened, she started to relax. It seemed like forever that she knelt there waiting. Needing. Heart racing. She was starting to believe that he wasn't going to touch her. It made the waiting worse. She moved back, spreading her legs wider.

"Please." Kelly moaned softly.

"Please?" The tips of his claws traced her pouting lower lips. "Sounds like you need somethin' frail."

Her eyes were closed. She was breathing faster. "I do."

"Gonna tell me what you want?" Both of his hands started moving over her bottom and the backs of her thighs.

Goosebumps raised on her flesh. "You know what I want."

"Course I do." His knuckle traced just inside her lips. "Wanna hear you say it."

"Need to feel you inside me. Please." Kelly's voice was a soft whimper.

He pushed his knuckle against her opening. "So polite. And such a nice little pussy you're offering."

Before Kelly could think, his claws bit into her hips and he plunged into her hard and fast. Kelly screamed into the pillow. Even after all this time, it still hurt when he took her so fast. She was just as sure that she needed it to. He put his hand on the back of her neck and held her still as he drove into her. Kelly clawed at the bed and moved with him. She let herself fall into all the sensations of rapidly building pleasure and shockingly sharp release. She screamed into the pillow again as dam burst and she let herself be carried away on the tide. His rhythm didn't change, but his claws bit into her hips and shoulders. She felt them pierce her skin, but by that time the stinging sensation of her skin breaking was just another aspect of the wave that was sweeping her along.

Somewhere off in the distance she heard a deep roar of release. That wasn't important either. The tide of her release was just beginning to slacken, but it was still drifting with it. She treasured those times when he could be gentle, but ferocious encounters like this were still what she dreamed about. Kelly smiled into the pillow and let the fluid pleasure carry her.

Just when the world was beginning to come back, Kelly felt Victor shifting her body back into bed. Her back was against his chest. His hands wandered over her breasts and down over her stomach to her thigh and then back up. She could hear a purr rumbling through his chest. He pinched her nipple and chuckled.

"Think you're purring more than I am." His voice was a soft rumble next to her ear.

Kelly smiled. "You make studying fun."

Victor laughed. "Gonna be trying to do your proofs and you'll be thinking about fucking." He stroked her stomach with his thumb.

"Like I don't already." She stroked the backs of his claws and laced her fingers with his. A comfortable silence grew between them and Kelly started to doze.

"Where do you wanna live, frail?" His voice was a soft rumble.

She didn't open her eyes. "Here."

A soft chuckle. "Hotel'd love that."

She smiled. "Not what I meant."

He kissed the side of her neck. "What's your second choice?"

She stroked his arm lightly. She thought for a long moment. "You've never asked me before."

He turned her to face him. His eyes held hers. "We're done running frail. Probably gonna have to deal with more shit eventually but I'll be goddamned if I'm gonna make you live on the run because of maybe. You name the place. 'F I don't already own something decent we'll find something."

She kissed him. Her lips lingering on his for a long moment. "Don't take this the wrong way. Not Chicago."

He turned over on her back. Kelly snuggled against his side. "Still hate it there, huh?"

"Not that I hate it. The city itself is interesting and since you fixed the lights the apartment is gorgeous. I know it's safe." She turned his face away from him. "This is going to sound stupid to you, but I hate that I can't smell the outside."

"It don't sound stupid. That's one of the things I hate about Chicago too. Maine's got plenty of space and open air." He stroked her arm lightly.

"It does. The house is huge though, and how much did we actually use? There were rooms I would never have set foot in if I weren't cleaning them. Besides, I want to be closer to the hospital where Cody is."

"So Buffalo. You take your tests tomorrow. Sunday we'll head back to Chicago and get our stuff and head out. Probably stay someplace close to the hospital until we know what's gonna happen with the kid." He stroked her back softly. For a long moment they were both silent. "You know I'm going to build a system for the place before we move in."

Kelly laughed. "I would be surprised if you didn't." She relaxed against him. "It's going to be hard living in the same city as Granna and Grandpa and not tell them where we are."

His claws teased through her hair. "Don't have to. Told you, we're done running."

* * *

"So what color?" Cassie asked.

"I don't know." Kelly sorted through the purple plastic basket of nail polish colors. "I don't usually paint my toenails."

Cassie laughed. "So? What about this one?" She held up a nearly new bottle.

Kelly shook her head. "I don't think pink glitter is exactly my thing." She kept searching and found a dark red. "This is more like it."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Please, my mom bought that one for me when I was in my cousin's wedding." She pulled out a black with an undertone of cherry.

Kelly shook her head. "Victor has a car that color. Looks great on the car, but I'm not sure about my toes." She found a bottle of red glittery polish. The color was called 'Ruby Slippers'. She smiled. "This one."

Cassie smiled a little and started to paint the big toenail on Kelly's right foot. "So is it true?"

Kelly looked at her. "Is what true?"

The brush paused mid-stroke. "Oh come on!"

Kelly laughed. "What? I don't know. All I know is all night you've had this look on your face like you've been itching to ask a question and now that you have I have no idea what you mean."

She smirked. "You told off Professor Xavier."

"I didn't tell him off." She looked at Cassie. "How would you have heard about that anyway?"

"Place is full of psychics, remember? Word tends to travel."

"I didn't tell him off." Kelly said.

"That's not what I heard." Cassie's voice had a sing-song quality.

Kelly laughed. "I only told him that I was done defending myself and Victor. If you ask me it was long overdue."

"Nobody tells him to back off," Cassie said.

Kelly shrugged. "He's overbearing, smug, manipulative and running his own agenda. I don't appreciate being used."

Cassie stared at her. "He's one of the good guys."

"The impression I get is that he's on his own side." She smiled a little. "Reminds me of Victor in that way. Victor's just more obvious about it."

Cassie watched her. "Do you see everyone that way?"

Kelly shrugged a little. "I've developed a different perspective I guess ." She looked down at her toes. "It looked different in the bottle."

A smile teased at Cassie's lips. "It needs a second coat. When do you guys leave?"

"Sunday. Feel like going to a movie or shopping or something tomorrow?"

Cassie focused on Kelly's toes. "I'll see if I can."

Kelly took a deep breath and willed herself to be calm. "If the warden won't let you out, see if I can come over here."

"Victor won't mind?"

She smiled a little. "I don't know if I would say it that way. He won't admit it, but I think he likes having the chance to argue with his brother."

* * *

It had taken two weeks to find a decent furnished apartment close to the hospital and a week to make a few basic security modifications. It was a perfectly dull two bedroom on the eighth floor of an equally uninspired high rise six blocks from the hospital. It was a little too modern for his tastes, but the frail looked more comfortable than she did in Chicago. That made it bearable.

The day after she'd unpacked, he'd taken her to the hospital and they'd been turned away. Not on the list, that wrinkled old bitch of a nurse had said. They'd come home and she'd spent a good two hours trying not to cry before she locked herself in the bathroom and gave in. It had taken Joe a lot of talking and explaining and convincing to get him and Kelly of the kid's list of approved visitors. In Creed's opinion, it was a bunch of bullshit. Anybody with a little bit of ingenuity and determination could get into a hospital. That two weeks of waiting had been was torture for the frail. At least now the wait was over.

Creed pulled on the charcoal gray jacket. "Frail! You gonna be all fucking morning?"

She emerged from the bedroom wearing black jeans and a gray and black argyle sweater. She smiled at him. "They're not going to be able to resist you."

He snorted and fastened the heavy gold watch around his wrist. "Client's a paranoid asshole and I'm about to offer him a tin foil hat with more bells and whistles than he's ever seen. He's probably gonna wanna suck my cock before lunchtime." He checked the files in his briefcase and then closed it.

Kelly smirked. "Trying to tell me I have competition?"

He grinned. "I'm a 'Systems Designer' now. Gotta keep my options open."

She smoothed his lapels. "Does that mean I get to keep my options open too?"

His eyebrows drew together. "Fuck no!"

"Good." She laughed and stood on her toes to kiss him. "I already have the best option."

Fucking frail. She was a smiling, sweet-scented distraction and he loved every minute of it. Creed pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. "You know you make me hard when you say shit like that. Got half a mind to call Conlon and tell him to hold off for an hour."

She smiled and kissed his lower lip. "You have an appointment to get to. You know Grandpa would take me to the hospital though."

Creed shook his head. "Just 'cause I decide to get out don't mean the past is gonna leave me alone. If I'm not with you, Conlon is."

She looked like she was about to say something, but a knock at the door broke the moment. He grabbed his coat and handed her jacket to her.

* * *

Kelly stood in the pediatric intensive care unit of Women's and Children's Hospital of Buffalo. She could see Cody's bed and her grandmother through the glass wall. Granna smiled at her. Kelly managed to smile back. She could barely see Cody through the side rails on the bed, but she followed all the tubes and monitor leads with her eyes until she found the small, pale form at their center.

She shook her head. "I thought he was breathing on his own." Kelly's arms were crossed across her stomach, trying to hold back the tremor that was threatening to consume her. Her grandfather stroked her back.

"He is. The tube is there to protect his airway and give us access should we need to provide more support." Dr. Ackerly was a small round man with a full white beard. It made him look like a garden gnome. His manner was equally kind. "We're monitoring his heart rate, the oxygen levels in his blood and his blood pressure. That's the monitor facing the window. There are IVs for medications and hydration, and we're giving him liquid nutrition through a tube in his nose. It all looks dramatic, but we're mostly offering support. Doing the things for Cody that he can't do for himself just now and making sure that he's holding his own."

There was a bag of yellow urine hanging on the side of the bed, but the doctor hadn't mentioned it. Kelly watched the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest under the sheets. She tried to remember something, anything from the time when she was unconscious at Xavier's, but nothing came back to her. She shook her head. "He doesn't know that any of us are here, does he?"

He gestured to a small collection of chairs. Kelly sat. The doctor sat on one side of her, her grandfather on the other. It was Dr. Ackerly that spoke. "I don't have a good answer for that. Coma is still a mystery in many ways. Some people who wake report that they remember everything that visitors said to them. Some feel as though they only closed their eyes for a moment. The days or weeks spent in the coma are simply missing."

"Did grandpa tell you that I was seriously injured and in a coma for a week several months ago?"

"Not in so many words, but the information about the epigenetic treatment and the story of your recovery from death seemed linked. I wondered if the patient in the case study and his granddaughter might be the same person."

She smiled a little. "It was me. I don't remember anything about the time when I was unconscious. Victor told me that I remembered a few things at the beginning, but it was all gone in a day or two." She looked down at her hands. "Even if Cody does hear me, he thinks I'm dead. If I upset him it could make him worse."

Her grandfather shook his head. "We've told him that was a mistake."

Kelly took a deep breath. "I didn't expect him to look so…so small and so sick. I don't know what to say to him."

"You don't have to say anything special." Dr. Akerly said. "You don't have to say anything at all if you don't want to. Just hold his hand for a few minutes. Maybe when you come back again you'll find something to say." The kindness in his eyes infused his smile.

Kelly nodded and looked at her grandfather. "Do you think Granna would give me a few minutes alone with him?"

"We'll go get some coffee." He patted her hand.

Kelly and Dr. Akerly waited by the door. Kelly hugged her grandmother on the way past. The relationship was still tentative, but it wasn't quite as strained as it had been. Even when her grandparents had stepped onto the elevator, she stayed still. "Take your time." The doctor said.

She walked into the pale, chilly room. For a long moment she just stared at Cody. He seemed even smaller than she remembered. His eyes were closed, his skin was nearly as pale as the sheets he was laying on. She grasped his hand and brushed a long lock of sandy hair off of his forehead.

"Cody, it's Kelly." Her mouth went dry, but she swallowed hard and went on. "I know they told you I was dead. It was just a mistake." She took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of her grandmother's chair. "There's so much that's happened, and this whole time I've missed you so much it hurt." She blinked the tears back. "If Granna and Grandpa haven't told you, you're safe. Not just for now, forever. Stan's gone and he's not going to come back, I promise you." She kissed his hand. "You're going to get better, Cody, and when you do I'll be here."

* * *

Three months. Three motherfucking months. That's how long it took to jump through all the fucking hoops, dot all the i's cross all the t's , fill out all the forms in triplicate, lose them, then fill them all out again.

Fucking bureaucratic bullshit.

In that time, the frail went to the hospital almost every day. Most of the time he worked from home designing custom systems based on what the client wanted and on those days, he went with her. Some days she talked to the kid. Some days she read him the '_Harry Potter_' books. Sometimes she just held his hand while she talked with her grandparents.

There was never any sign of change.

Days when he was meeting with clients, Conlon took her.

He took her back to Xavier's for her finals. She aced them just like he knew she would. While the other kids when to dances and practiced how to walk across a stage to get their diplomas, she packed and they headed back to the Buffalo. All the way back, she looked like another weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

In that three month period, the government had called him once. He'd fulfilled the mission to the letter and in the moment when his claws had torn into that sad bastard's belly he'd felt a familiar rush of excitement that reached through his pounding heart to his groin. After, when the blood was getting sticky and the body was starting to cool at his feet, the thought of the frail looking at him made him feel like he'd been rolling around in shit. He stayed away an extra day, just to try and get rid of that feeling. The frail didn't say anything about it when he got back. She just kissed him and told him she had missed him.

The new job wasn't ideal, but he didn't need a cooling off period before he could let the frail look at him again. Maybe that feeling wouldn't last. Maybe he'd end up missing the blood and the screaming and the stink of human fear. He doubted it, but then he never thought he would ever want out either.

He looked over at the frail. She was curled up and dozing in one of the uncomfortable visitor's chairs in the kid's hospital room. She hadn't wanted the kid to be alone when got the treatment. Her grandparents took the day shift. She volunteered to take nights. That fucking bitch of a nurse started babbling about rules. Ackerly stepped in before Creed had to. Whether or not he was partially reformed, she was still his frail and he would be damned if anybody was going to hurt her.

Two nights in those godawful hospital chairs were testing his fucking resolve. He leaned back in the recliner and stroked the frail's arm. She looked over her shoulder.

"C'mere." He smiled a little.

She got up and settled against his chest. He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. She kissed him lightly. "You should go home." Her voice was a soft murmur.

"Leave you here alone all night? Not on your fucking life." He kissed her temple. He felt her slip into a deeper sleep. He smiled and turned his eyes back to kid.

He watched the monitors, watched his breathing and listened to time tick away. Sometimes the frail shifted against him. Sometimes she sighed or arched closer. Holding her made the waiting easier. He could have sat there for hours, as long as she was there too.

Nurses came in and out and did whatever the fuck they did. At six-thirty in the morning, the dimmed corridor lights came up. The frail shifted but she didn't wake. Joe and Anna would be there by nine, but he'd let the frail sleep as long as he could. He closed his eyes and let himself start to drift off to the rhythm of monitors and people passing on whispering steps in the hall.

Something on the edge of that soft monotony pulled at his consciousness. He couldn't say what it was at first, just something that didn't quite fit. Maybe a little sigh. Maybe something that sounded like the squeak of plastic. Probably the frail, or one of the nurses. They were the only things moving in the room.

It was an insistent little sound. Scent told him that none of the nurses were in the room. The frail was quiet against him. He opened his eyes and saw the kid staring back at him and fucking around with the breathing tube.

"Shit!" He sat up. The frail mumbled something. He never took his eyes off the kid. "Frail, he's awake."

She looked at him and then realization dawned in her eyes. She looked at Cody. "Get the nurse." She was off his lap in a shot. Creed watched her take his hand. "Just a second sweetie, we'll get someone to take the tube out."

* * *

Creed stood out in the hall and watched the frail and her grandparents. They were all smiles, but the kid didn't wake up as easy the frail had. He hadn't said a word in the hour he'd been awake. He hadn't moved much either, but when he did, his limbs shook. The frail sat on the bed with him and he curled up against her side like a child younger than his years. After all the kid had been through, Creed supposed he deserved a little comfort.

The frail was glowing with joy and strength and she was his. Just looking at her made him proud. Course the others were a part of the frail. Maybe that meant they were his in a different way. Something about the idea appealed to him.

Creed smiled a little. The frail looked over at him and motioned him to come in.

Nine months ago he'd gone looking for a shred or two of his humanity. He hadn't had a fucking clue how to go about it and after he found the frail he stopped thinking about it. It all seemed to happen without so much as a pang of uncertainty or a moments' effort. He didn't care whether or not it would last. It had lasted this long, there was no reason to think it wouldn't go on. He was going to damn well enjoy it.

He walked into the room to meet his mate's brother.

* * *

_This is the end of 'What the Cat Dragged In'. I want to thank all of you for reading and taking this journey with me. I can only hope that you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing for you._


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